He looked baffled.
I shrugged. “What can I say? Some people watch the news with their morning coffee. My grandma reads the obituaries.”
It didn’t take long to realize I was too antsy to wait for a call from the boys that might never come, so I packed a lunch and asked them if I could park on their porch.
I was sitting on the steps, working on the second half of my tuna on rye, and listening to a true crime podcast, when Nina’s front door slammed. I quickly hid behind the porch railing before Donna saw me.
She balanced a large cardboard box on her hip, while stumbling through the mounds of dirt, rocks, and debris to Nina’s car parked at the curb. She popped the rear hatch, stowed the carton inside, and drove away.
After the car rounded the corner, I raced over and pounded on the door, shouting Nina’s name. I heard her feebly call out, “Who’s there?”
“Nina! It’s Katy! Can you come to the door?”
No answer.
I pressed my ear against the carved wood. “Nina! Can you hear me?”
“Who’s there?” Her usually vigorous voice sounded weak and wobbly.
I tried the knob and it was locked. I dashed to the dog door set in the glass slider facing the back yard. Temporary plastic orange mesh fencing bordered the dirt where the aggregate patio had been. Judging from all the poop piles, this was Baby Girl’s potty area. I tried the slider. It was locked to the dog door insert.
Keeping my ears perked for the sound of the Subaru returning, I sneaked around the perimeter of the house, checking for open windows and unlocked doors. The kitchen door was locked. A bathroom window was open, but too high and small to climb through. I got lucky on a bedroom window that was open a few inches. I struggled to slide the sash window up, but it was stuck. There was a rolled-up towel stuffed in the gap.
I removed the faded yellow towel and peeked into the gloomy room. Nina was in the bed, lying on her side, eyes closed, facing the window. “Nina? It’s me. Katy. Do you need my help?”
Nothing.
Crap. Now what? “NINA! Tell me you’re okay!”
Silence.
I stepped away from the window wondering if I should break it. It wouldn’t be the first window I’ve shattered in recent times. While searching the yard for a good-sized rock, my gaze fell on the dog door. Could I fit through it? It was bigger than Donna’s dog needed, but was it big enough for me?
“Only one way to find out.” I got down on all fours, stuck my head through, and hollered Nina’s name again.
No answer.
“Looks like I’m going in.” I had wiggled my head and shoulders through the opening when I heard…
“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Nosey Nellie. What the hell are you doing?”
Frozen in mid-wiggle, I heard the click of a phone-photo, and backtracked out the doggy door to face my nemesis. “Nina was calling for help.” I crossed my arms, trying to look like a hero rather than a freaked-out trespasser.
“I very much doubt my aunt was calling for help. She was dead to the world when I left. Looks more like breaking and entering to me.” She brandished her phone. “And I’ve got a photo to prove it.”
“Technically, I was not breaking in. The dog door was open, and I was—”
“Breaking in. Trespassing. Burglarizing. Whatever.”
“Oh, please. Why would I break in to steal stuff?”
“You tell me. Aunt Nina has lots of nice things. Valuable things that you’ve no doubt noticed on past visits.”
“Like what?”
“Jewelry, for one thing. She has some expensive pieces.”
“Really? How would you know that?”
Donna tipped her head with a smug smile. “She’s my aunt, in case you forgot, and they’re family heirlooms. She showed me, since it’ll all be coming to me soon.”
“Soon? Sure sounds like you can’t wait.”
She pointed her finger at me. “You need to leave now.”
“I don’t suppose you’d let me see Nina first, would you? You know—as a goodwill gesture. I promise to quit bothering you if you do.”
“When hell freezes over.” She gazed up at the crystal clear blue sky. “Doesn’t look like that’ll be happening today.”
A little while later
* * *
Hidden from the street by the flowering trumpet vine hanging from the eaves, I sat on the porch glider, gently rocking and nursing a cup of tea. Daisy lay beside me, resting her head on my lap.
“Well, that’s that, Daisy. I’ve tried to get in that house several times.” I scratched behind her floppy ears, and her back leg thumped the cushion. “Even got Sam, Ruby, and Ben involved. And I reported my suspicions to Social Services. So now it’s time to give up.”
Daisy lifted her head, ears perked at attention. A car door slammed, and I peeked through the vine. A squad car sat at the curb, and a grim-looking officer was marching up the walk.
Oh, God. This can’t be good. I stepped out into the open. “Hi there. May I help you?”
Daisy bounded down the steps to meet her new best friend. The cop smiled warmly and patted her head. “Hey, poochie. Aren’t you a sweet thing?” Her smile flip-flopped when she set her cool gaze on me. “Are you Katy McKenna?”
I swallowed hard. Please don’t tell me someone has died. “I am. Is there something wrong, Officer?”
Daisy escorted the woman to the porch, then watched the brunette as she pulled out her phone and aimed the screen photo at me. “Look familiar?”
I’d know that butt anywhere. “Yes. That’s me. I was trying to check on my neighbor. Nina Lowen. I’m very concerned about her welfare.”
“So, you broke into the house instead of knocking on the door?”
“This isn’t what you think,” I said.
“I think you were breaking in.” She glanced at my jeans. My front thighs had snags and dust on them. “What do you think?”
I think I should’ve changed my pants. “Are you going to arrest me?” I held out my hands to be cuffed, then jerked them back. “Wait. I need to put Daisy in the house first.”
“Lucky for you, your neighbor is not pressing charges, so this is only a warning.” She held the phone photo up again. “Do this again, and I will arrest you.”
There was no way I could promise that I wouldn’t do it again without lying. “I won’t do it again.”
“Thank you. Have a nice day.” She stepped off the porch.
“Wait!” I tailed her down the walk to her car. “Has Social Services checked on Nina? I called and made a report several days ago.”
“I wouldn’t know. You’ll have to take it up with them.”
“They won’t tell me anything. A few days after that woman…” I rolled my eyes, hoping she’d get the message. “…Donna Baxter came to (I finger-quoted) visit, she started blocking me from seeing Nina. Every time I try, she says Nina is (I finger-quoted again) sleeping. This has been going on for over two weeks now.”
“Ms. Baxter told me about your concerns. She knows you care, and that’s why she isn’t pressing charges. However, Ms. Lowen is in her late eighties, so sleeping a lot doesn’t sound unreasonable to me.”
“She wasn’t sleeping all the time before her niece arrived.”
“A person’s health at that age can change suddenly. I saw it happen with my grandfather. He had a nasty fall and was never the same again.”
“Nina hasn’t had a nasty fall.”
A dispatch came through her radio—a family disturbance.
“I have to take this,” she said. “Please, don’t do anything foolish, okay? You seem like a nice person, and I don’t want to arrest you.”
She got in her car, flipped on the siren and lights, and sped away. I glanced down the street and saw Donna on the sidewalk, arms crossed and looking smug. I resisted the urge to flip her off.
She didn’t resist the urge.
Chapter Twenty-One
Friday • June 26
Poste
d by Katy McKenna
Sam called while I was putting on my makeup. “Hi. I’m driving Casey to the summer rec program at the park.”
She was on Bluetooth, so Casey joined in. “Hey, Aunt Katy! I’m going to the park. Are you going to do boring errands today?”
“Hey, Casey. Let’s see. Let me think. Yup. I’m doing boring errands today.”
I heard him gleefully giggling in the backseat.
Sam got back into the conversation. “What’s up with you? Are you all right? You haven’t blogged in a few days.”
It was her idea that I start a blog when I was suffering through my miserable divorce from Cheater-Chad. She said it would be therapeutic, and she was right.
I set the mascara tube on the counter and perched on the toilet seat lid. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to blog, that’s all.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“I dunno. I feel like I don’t have a purpose.” I gazed at the grooming clutter on the counter, thinking I should clean up that mess one of these days.
“Sure you do. You still don’t know what’s going on at your neighbor’s house. Hold on a sec. Casey? You got your lunch?”
“In my backpack, Mom. Bye, Aunt Katy!”
“Bye,” I hollered. “Have a super fun day. Say hi to your girlfriend!”
“Mom! You told her?”
“You didn’t tell me it’s a secret, honey.”
“Her name is Isabella,” said Casey. “She’s eight and really, really good at soccer. Bye, Aunt Katy.”
The car door slammed, and Sam immediately jumped on my case. “What’s happened to my snoopy, caring, vigilante-wannabe buddy?”
“I’m still here, but since that cop warned me off with the threat of arrest, I’ve let the Nina thing go. Really don’t want to wind up in jail.”
“If anything bad happens to Nina, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
“I don’t think anything really bad is going to happen to her,” I said. “Like Donna murdering her or something. It’s just that it seems her life has been taken hostage by her niece, and there’s nothing she can do about it. I’ve accepted the fact that there’s nothing I can do about it, either.”
“Before Donna came into the picture, Nina was making plans for a new, fun chapter in her life. Now, in just a few short weeks, her life has come to a grinding halt. She’s sleeping all the time—”
“According to Donna,” I interjected.
“Her beloved cat is living with you because Donna didn’t want him. And her lovely home is in ruins. I didn’t tell you this, but when you told me she wanted to move to Shady Acres, Spencer and I were seriously thinking about checking out her house to buy. We could have been neighbors. But no way now. I wanted the vintage house it was, not the fixer-upper mess it is now.”
“Oh, that would have been so fun.”
“Listen. If you decide to continue your Nina crusade, I’m here if you need my help. I’ll even bail you out of jail if need be.” She laughed. “Unless I’m in there with you. Don’t forget—you got a hotshot attorney in the family now.”
“That’s true. We’ve got Ben. Let’s talk later, okay?”
I finished my makeup and didn’t clean up the counter. While giving my coffee a warm-up in the microwave, I thought about Sam’s pep talk. She’s right. I can’t turn a blind eye and say it’s none of my business. Someone has to do the right thing. And that someone is me!
I threw back my slouchy shoulders, wishing I had a Super Woman cape, and strode out the front door. Then went back inside, drank my coffee, and strapped on the FitTrim. By then, my initial resolve to be a valiant vigilante had dissolved into a more reasonable level of caution.
I sat on the porch steps and ran through different scenarios about how to get in that house to see Nina and with hope, get her out of there. Finally, I came up with a plan that was pretty crazy, but doable. Unfortunately, it required breaking in again.
However, this time, I would make sure that Donna wouldn’t be around to catch me in the act.
Private.
I have to keep this private.
Mom reads my blog and tells Pop everything.
The Plan
Uncle Charlie’s Clunker Carnival used car lot features an ongoing carnival with a Ferris wheel, merry-go-round, carny food, loud calliope music, and salespeople wearing clown costumes. It’s amazing that this corny gimmick still works in this day and age, but it does.
Every year, they hold a contest to win a shiny used car. Usually it’s a drawing, but last year they tried a new gimmick. The winner was the final person to still have a hand on the prize. I was hired to design the promotional poster for the contest. The contest went on for several grueling days and didn’t go well, so this year they are back to having a simple drawing.
Donna wouldn’t know about the contest, but she is definitely aware of the car lot because it’s next to Home Depot where she bought the dog door. I was asked to do the poster again, but I was in England with Ruby when they contacted me. The winning name hasn’t been drawn yet, so there are colorful posters and festive decorations around the lot right now.
My plan required a voice that Donna wouldn’t recognize. But who? “Hold the phone! Betty! She’s perfect.”
Daisy had been snoozing on the porch next to me. She lifted her head, flicking her brows up and down quizzically. I gave her a little poke. “Grandma’s friend. Caftan, turban—you know. She freaks you out.”
She exhaled a long, belabored “whatever” sigh and settled her head on my lap.
I called Ruby. “Say ‘hi’ to your great-granddaughter. She misses you.”
I held the phone by Daisy’s ear, and Ruby screamed, “Hi. Grammy loves you, and I guess you’re the only great-grandchild I will ever have!”
Daisy did a perfect down-dog yoga stretch, and moved to the porch swing.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked.
“I’m at the fitness center, and you just rescued me from the dreaded stair-stepper machine.”
“Ooo. I hate that thing. By any chance is Betty around?”
“She’s sitting on a recumbent bike chatting with the girls. Why do you ask?”
I outlined my plan to her. When I concluded, she said, “Oh, good! I was upset that you were giving up on Nina. I think I can safely say Betty will be thrilled to do it. We’ll call it an acting gig.”
Betty is a volunteer usher at our community theater. She’s also active in the Shady Acres yearly stage productions. A few years ago, she played the lead in Mame. That’s when she started wearing caftans full time.
Ruby went on. “You’ll need to write a script for her because you do not want her ad-libbing. You should download some carnival music for background ambiance, too. When do you want to do it?”
“Tomorrow. The sooner, the better.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Saturday • June 27
Posted by Katy McKenna
The con
Private
* * *
The grand dames arrived at ten. Betty, attired in a purple, gold-trimmed caftan, matching turban, and gold sequined sneakers, regally swooshed through the door, trailed by a breeze of Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds and a hint of weed.
“Dah-ling.” She held my hands, and air-kissed my cheeks. “So good to see you.”
Daisy took one look at her and beelined to my bedroom. Mr. Snickers sidled up to Betty and sniffed the air, then joined Daisy. Tabitha, however, hung out with us.
I led the ladies to the kitchen table and offered coffee.
“I’ll have a cup,” said Ruby. “Got any cookies?”
I set a pink box on the table, and opened it to reveal an array of danishes. “Still want cookies?”
The ladies helped themselves while I poured coffees.
“Where’s my script?” said Betty. “I need to rehearse my lines. Ruby explained the role I’m playing, but what’s my inspiration? My motivation? What drives my character? What’s her backstory?”
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Ruby mumbled through a mouthful of apricot croissant. “Oh, good grief.”
I sat opposite them and handed a one-page script to Betty, then flipped open my laptop. I’d already downloaded a long looping soundbite of carnival sounds. People screaming on fun rides, a barker enticing people to play a game of chance, and calliope music.
Betty lifted her long chin, her fake lashes fluttering as her hand floated back and forth in the air. “Ah, yes. Coney Island. Cotton candy. The funhouse.” She opened her eyes wide and flashed me a smirk. “Yuh want me tuh do a Brooklyn accent, or what?”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s great.”
Ruby wiggled in her seat. “Oh! Oh! Do the Muppet’s Swedish Chef!”
Betty picked up the script. “Helluuu. I’m calleeng frum Kluunker Kernifel cer deelersheepa. Mey I speeka tu Nina Lowen-a, pleese-a?”
“Now do your Southern drawl,” said Ruby.
“What state?”
“I don’t care. Just give us your worst.”
“Howdy. I’m callin’ from Clunker Carnival caw dealership. May I spake to Nina Lowen, pelayze?”
I smacked the wood table. “I love it! That’s the one I want you to do.”
Ruby nodded. “It’s my favorite, too.”
I refilled our coffee cups. “The only problem with trying to follow a script is, Donna won’t be following one so you may have to ad-lib a little.”
Ruby widened her eyes at me, and I widened mine back at her with a shrug.
“All right, ladies. Let’s do this,” I said.
I picked up my phone and Betty shook her head. “Let’s use mine just in case Nina’s phone has caller I.D.” Before Betty dialed the number, she said, “Friday’s Five Fresh Fish Specials. Twixt this and six thick thistle sticks. Red leather, yellow leather.”
While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5 Page 10