The Case of the Abandoned Aussie

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The Case of the Abandoned Aussie Page 17

by B R Snow


  “Are you ready for this?” I said, turning the handle.

  “I guess there’s no turning back now,” she said.

  I pushed the door open and gasped at what I saw.

  “Oh, no,” Josie said, gagging.

  “Are you okay?” I said, glancing back and forth between her and the body on the tile floor.

  “Well, I’m certainly doing better than her,” Josie said, staring down at the body. “What on earth is going on in this town?”

  “Go get our phones,” I said. “I’ll stay here to see if I can find a pulse.”

  “Good luck with that,” Josie said, taking a quick glance at the body before running down the hall and out of the house.

  I stared down at Roxanne’s sprawled body and the gardening shears sticking out of her back. She was wearing what used to be a white bathrobe. I couldn’t tell if she had just finished taking a shower or had been headed that way when she’d been attacked. I stretched out as far as I could without stepping in the blood and touched the side of her neck to check for a pulse. I couldn’t detect anything.

  Josie returned and handed me my phone. My hands shook as I dialed the number. I put the phone on speaker and tried to get some degree of control over my emotions.

  “Hello, this is Jackson.”

  “Hi, Jackson.”

  “Suzy, what’s up? Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”

  “Without a doubt, Jackson. Look, you’re not going to believe this, but… there’s another situation that’s come up.”

  “What have you done now, Suzy?”

  “I haven’t done anything,” I said, staring down at the body. “But you and Freddie need to get out here.”

  “And where exactly might that be?”

  “You remember Carl, the gardener for the Crawfords?”

  “Sure,” Jackson said, then paused. “Don’t tell me he’s dead?”

  “No, but we’re at his house,” I said.

  “We? Josie, you’re there too aren’t you?”

  “Hi, Jackson,” Josie said.

  “You guys need to start focusing more on your dogs,” Jackson said.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said. “Do you know where Carl’s house is?”

  “The place off Route 12 with the chain across the driveway, right?”

  “That’s the one,” I said. “It’s locked, so you and Freddie will need to park on the side of the road and walk in. You’ll see my car.”

  “Are you in any danger at the moment?”

  “No, I think whoever did this is long gone,” I said, glancing at Josie who nodded in agreement.

  “Okay, we’ll be right over,” Jackson said. “By the way, who’s the victim?”

  “Roxanne.”

  “Crawford’s girlfriend?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Lots of blood?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Maple syrup?”

  “Not a drop in sight,” I said.

  “You know what to do, right?”

  “Yes. Stay put and don’t touch anything,” I said.

  “And that includes the fridge, too,” Jackson said, then ended the call.

  Chapter 29

  “We need to stop meeting like this,” Freddie deadpanned when I opened the front door.

  Josie and I stepped back to give him and Jackson room to come inside. We didn’t laugh at his joke, but it did break a bit of the tension we’d been dealing with the past half hour. Discovering a dead body in a strange house in the middle of the night is a bizarre and frightening experience.

  I don’t recommend it.

  “Where is she?” Jackson said as he glanced around the living room.

  “The bathroom at the end of the hall,” I said, pointing briefly before sitting back down on the couch.

  Both men headed off and moments later we heard the sound of gagging and coughing coming from the bathroom.

  “I told you that you didn’t have to feel bad about tossing your cookies,” I said to Josie, who was still recovering from her initial reaction to seeing Roxanne sprawled on the bathroom floor.

  “Suzy, I’m getting worried,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “That we might be next,” Josie said.

  “No way,” I said, shaking my head. “Why would anybody want to kill us?”

  “For starters, because we keep sticking our noses where they don’t belong.”

  “You worry too much,” I said, trying not to think about the possibility that we could be targets.

  “Yeah, that’s the problem here,” Josie said. “My worrying.”

  Jackson slowly wandered down the hall and sat down in a chair across from us. He removed his hat and wiped his face and neck with a handkerchief. He stared at us, seemingly unsure of where to start.

  “What a mess,” Jackson said. “I should have taken my dad’s advice and just learned the grocery business.”

  “You’d be bored in a week,” I said.

  “At the moment, boredom sounds pretty good,” he said. “Okay, let’s get started. What on earth were you two doing here in the first place?”

  I glanced at Josie, who shook her head as she stared off into the distance. Apparently, I was on my own.

  “Well, Josie and I have been thinking about having some landscape work done so we thought we’d swing by and ask Carl if he might be interested in the job.”

  Jackson gave me a blank, almost hostile, stare.

  “Try again,” he said, sitting back in his chair.

  I exhaled, then nodded.

  “Okay, Carl brought his dog in to be boarded today since he was going to visit Chef Claire.”

  “Yes, I know. I made a call to the prison,” Jackson said.

  “So he said. That was such a nice thing to do, Jackson.”

  “Drop the empathy act, Suzy,” he said. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Sorry. Anyway, after Carl left, we thought that-”

  “Excuse me?” Josie said, glaring at me.

  “What?”

  “You’re doing the collective we thing again,” Josie said.

  Okay, I was flying solo on this one.

  “After he left, I thought it would be a good idea to come out and have a look around.”

  “So you were snooping,” Jackson said.

  “Snooping is such a harsh term,” I said, then nodded. “Yeah, okay, we were snooping.”

  “But I was doing it under protest,” Josie said.

  “Save it, Josie,” Jackson said. “I’ll get to you as soon as I finish with Ms. Meddler here.”

  Before I could turn indignant and fight back, Freddie came racing down the hall holding his phone against his ear.

  “Yes, that’s the address,” Freddie said, frantically talking into the phone. “Get that ambulance out here now! You’ll see a chain across the driveway but just blow right through it. And bring several pints of type O blood. Do it now!”

  Freddie put his phone away and looked at Jackson.

  “I found a trace of a pulse. Just strong enough to tell me she’s still alive,” he said, heading back toward the bathroom.

  Jackson raced after him. Stunned by the news, Josie and I sat quietly on the couch. I felt the tears well up in my eyes and then they began streaming down my face. Josie took one look at me and lost it as well. We were still bawling our eyes out when the ambulance arrived a few minutes later.

  We sat unmoving on the couch for the next two hours as paramedics, and a local doctor arrived and performed their magic on Roxanne in the bathroom. Jackson joined us in the living room, and we listened to his side of the conversation as he made several calls. We learned that an all-points bulletin had been put out to locate Carl. He also called the prison where Chef Claire was to have the staff interview her regarding what she and Carl had discussed during his visit. He spoke with the state policeman we’d met the day Marge Crawford was killed. Twenty minutes later he arrived at the house, and Jackson briefed him on the situatio
n before escorting him to the bathroom where the medical staff continued to work frantically to save Roxanne’s life.

  “He’s really good at his job,” I said to Josie after Jackson had headed down the hall.

  “Yes, he is,” Josie said. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I said, patting her hand. “I deserved it.”

  “Yes, you certainly did,” she said managing a small laugh.

  “Who do you think did this?” I said.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “But those gardening shears were embedded right up to the handle. Whoever did this would have to be really strong.”

  “You mean strong like Carl?”

  “Yeah, strong like Carl,” Josie said.

  “I guess I can see that,” I said, my mind refusing to shut down. “Carl goes out of town with a perfect alibi, rents a motel room, drives home after he talks with Chef Claire, takes care of Roxanne, then heads back to the motel. It’s a lot of driving, but the timeframe works.”

  “Suzy?” Josie said.

  “Yeah.”

  “If you don’t stop talking, I swear I’m going to punch you,” Josie said.

  “No, just listen to what I’m- Ow! That hurt,” I said, grabbing my shoulder.

  “I said stop talking.”

  Josie glared at me, and I finally got the message.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark,” I said, rubbing the tender spot.

  “Good.”

  Freddie appeared in the hall and watched as two paramedics wheeled a stretcher past him and out the door. Roxanne was strapped tight and connected to oxygen and a blood bag. We watched until the ambulance, siren blaring, roared down the gravel driveway and disappeared. Freddie, sweating profusely, sat in a chair and stared down at the floor.

  “Is she going to make it?” I whispered.

  Freddie looked up and seemed startled to see us there. He nodded and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “Yeah, I think she has a chance,” he said. “I have no idea how she managed to hang on. I’ve never seen anything like it. The garden shears missed her heart by half an inch, but given the amount of blood she lost she should be dead.”

  Jackson and state policeman walked into the living room and remained standing.

  “We’re going to need to speak with both of you,” Jackson said.

  Josie and I nodded.

  “She was very lucky you guys were here,” Freddie said, continuing to come out of his daze. “In a weird way, you might have saved her life.”

  I probably should have felt somewhat better when I heard him say that, but for some reason, Josie and I started bawling again. To their credit Jackson and the state policeman waited out the next fifteen minutes in silence until we stopped.

  Chapter 30

  Getting my day off the ground reminded me of what it’s like when you’re trying to start your car on a frigid winter morning. The car wants to start; it probably wants to get warm even more than you do. After all, it was the one sitting outside all night while you were sleeping in a warm bed. But despite its best efforts to get going, it struggles as all the moving parts try to find a way to work together and get all the cylinders firing at the same time.

  It was almost four in the morning when Jackson and state policeman finished with us. After an hour of questioning, it became clear that Josie and I weren’t suspects. But they kept asking their questions, many of them repeated, hoping our answers would provide some clues or insights into what was going on in and around our beloved town.

  I refilled my coffee mug and sat down at my desk and fired up my laptop. As soon as she was sure my movements didn’t involve food, Chloe hopped up on the couch and propped her head on her outstretched paws and kept a close eye on things. My phone rang, and I checked the number.

  “Good morning, Jackson,” I said, yawning. “You’re up early.”

  “I haven’t been to bed,” he said. “I thought I’d just check in to see how you and Josie are doing.”

  “We’re fine,” I said. “And I’m sorry about all the sobbing and emotional outbursts. Sometimes I can be such a girl.”

  Jackson laughed. I could hear the fatigue in his voice.

  “Thanks for clarifying that,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. And don’t tell anybody, but I was on the verge of tears a couple of times myself.”

  “Did you track Carl down?” I took a sip of coffee and carried it to the couch. I sat down and waited for Chloe to climb aboard and make herself comfortable.

  “Yeah, the state police out of Rochester found him sound asleep in the motel. And they brought him back just before sunrise.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s probably sound asleep at his house,” Jackson said. “That is if he’s able to sleep there given what went down last night.”

  “So you didn’t arrest him?” I said.

  “No, his alibi checked out completely. He was at the prison last night visiting with Chef Claire until around eight. Then he ate dinner at a restaurant near his motel. And the motel clerk confirmed that Carl picked up his room key just before ten.”

  “That’s good. I was hoping he didn’t do it,” I said. “But what about the greenhouse?”

  “What about it?” Jackson said.

  “Didn’t you check it out?”

  “Of course we checked it out,” he said.

  “And?”

  “What is this, Suzy? Twenty questions? And what?”

  “Didn’t you find something in the greenhouse?”

  “Suzy, I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I don’t think I can arrest a guy just for thinking he could grow hothouse orchids in a cold climate like this.” Then Jackson laughed. “I suppose I could hold him for psychiatric observation. I mean, who would be crazy enough to come up with that idea?”

  “He’s growing orchids?”

  “Yeah. And he’s doing a good job of it, too. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible. What did you think he was growing in there?”

  “Uh, well, I was thinking he might be growing something of a more herbal variety.”

  “Weed? If he’s growing weed, he sure isn’t growing it in his greenhouse.”

  “How about that,” I said, glancing up at Josie entered the office.

  “Anyway, he was shocked to hear about what happened to Roxanne. He’s blaming himself for not being there to protect her.”

  “Good morning, Jackson,” Josie said.

  “Hey, Josie. How are you doing?”

  “I’m exhausted,” she said. “I’m walking around in a total fog this morning. I don’t know how you do your job.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been wondering the same thing myself lately.”

  “How’s Roxanne doing?” I said.

  “She’s still in critical condition at Upstate Medical. But the doctors are cautiously optimistic. Their words, not mine. That’s one tough woman.”

  Josie and I both nodded.

  “I’m glad to hear you two are okay,” Jackson said. “That was a lot to deal with. Look, I need to head off. I’m going back out to Carl’s place for another walkthrough with the forensic folks. I’ll check in with you later.”

  He ended the call, and Josie arched her back and yawned. Then she noticed my laptop.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I decided to take your advice about dealing more in fact than just my emotions and gut instincts,” I said, tapping my laptop with one hand. “I’m doing a bit of research on Sugarland Farms. I’m curious about why a popular brand that people still remember just disappeared.”

  “Good for you. A little internet research should keep you out of trouble,” Josie said as she started opening and closing various drawers and cupboards and coming up empty. Then she stopped and looked at me with a confused expression. “What’s Sugarland Farms?”

  “It’s the maple syrup company that Eunice mentioned at breakfast the other day. Both she and Jackson’s dad said that their syrup was
great, but the company seems to have completely disappeared from history. Since maple syrup was part of both Crawford’s crime scenes, I thought I’d check it out. We’re a little short on clues at the moment.”

  “Take all the time you need on the computer. I could use a quiet day,” she said, laughing. Then she resumed looking for whatever she’d lost.

  “Yeah, I suppose I could use a day out of the doghouse,” I said, tapping the keyboard. “But I’ve been Googling all morning and can’t find anything except a couple of obscure references that don’t make any sense to me.”

  “Well, a lot of things that happened before the internet haven’t made their way online yet. And I imagine some never will. The history of this Sugarland Farms is probably locked away in the musty archives of some small town newspaper or public library.”

  “Probably,” I said, looking up from the screen at the sound of drawers opening and closing. “What on earth are you looking for?”

  “My bacon and egg breakfast bagel,” Josie said, opening the drawer where we kept office supplies.

  “And you think it’s in there with the paper clips and staples?”

  “I have no idea where I put it,” Josie said, pausing from her search. “I was in here earlier looking for a box of manila folders. I had it on a plate, and I remember setting it down.” She snapped her fingers. “Now I remember.” She used a footstool to climb up on the counter and reached for the top of the cabinet. “Aha,” she exclaimed, grabbing the edge of the plate. Then she climbed down and stared at the empty plate in her hands. “That’s odd.” Then she gave Chloe a look of mock indignation.

  “You ate my bagel? How could you?”

  Chloe cocked her head and looked away; not guilt-ridden by any stretch of the imagination, but without a doubt caught red-handed after the fact.

  “How the heck did you get all the way up there?” Josie said, sitting down on the couch and rubbing Chloe’s head. “You’re worse than a toddler.”

  The office door opened, and my mother’s head appeared.

  “Speaking of things worse than a toddler,” I said.

  “Am I interrupting?” she said, walking inside.

 

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