by Ellen Riggs
Percy lifted a paw to resume his litter box ploy and I shook my head. “Don’t, Percy. Just relax. Everybody relax. The worst will be over soon.”
The worst was already over for poor José. I couldn’t imagine who’d want him dead, if that’s what had happened. He was revered by his students, male and female, and hadn’t been in town long enough to acquire more enemies. “Maybe someone followed him here,” I speculated aloud. “He was a rolling stone so maybe he was trying to outrun old trouble.”
Keats mumbled what sounded like encouragement. The dog loved a job—any job—and a new investigation would intrigue him even more than Edna. But her fascination was different. Prurient, possibly. She’d been treated poorly by Clover Grove’s citizens and had treated people poorly in return. Sometimes her motives were opaque, even to an HR expert skilled in seeing what made people tick. One thing I knew for sure was that Edna was more likely to hinder than help an investigation, should one be required. Amateur sleuthing required a light touch. I helped solve crimes mostly through casual conversation and establishing a rapport with people. That definitely wasn’t Edna’s strong suit. She was good in a crisis, no doubt about that, but she was about as subtle as the ATV she rode in on.
Percy circled around me and landed between my shoulder blades. There was a scrabble as he tried to get a grip on the slick, split fabric, and then he hoisted himself onto my right shoulder. His ascent usually left a trail of pinpricks in my back, but the warm fluff against my cheek was welcome. Especially when he turned on the motor, as he did now. He had a truly magnificent purr, if a little rough around the edges.
“Thanks, Percy,” I said, sensing his move came from a good place. “We’ll be okay. We always are, right?”
The motor got louder—so loud I barely heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Kellan’s SUV pulled in well ahead of the rest of the team. He jumped out and ran toward me, scaling the fence with the fluid grace of an athlete. He’d played almost every sport in high school and excelled at them all, as had my brother. Unlike Asher, however, Kellan’s focus had been on academics. Back then he wanted to be a doctor. I’d never asked him what had changed his mind. We were estranged in the years where each of us made the big decisions in life. But as he ran toward me now, I was grateful he’d made the choice he did.
He swept me into a hug and for a moment I relaxed just a little. “Oh, Kellan, I’m so sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Unless you did this yourself.” He pulled back to stare at me. “You didn’t, did you?”
“Of course not!”
He moved away, smoothing his police jacket and transforming instantly from boyfriend Kellan into Chief Harper. “I had to ask.”
“You didn’t, really. But fine.”
The haughty twitch of my toque dislodged Percy from his perch and he sprung lightly to land on Kellan’s broad shoulder. The cat turned swiftly and sat down, facing me. The visual was a parody of the pirate with the parrot on his shoulder and I couldn’t stop a nervous giggle from escaping my cold lips.
“Ivy, this is no laughing matter.” He tried to swipe Percy away, but the cat just stepped elegantly across his back to the other shoulder and settled again.
“I know, I know. It’s just a reaction to stress.” I hated to echo Edna, but it was true. “Percy, get off the chief. This is no time for games.”
“Or fur,” Kellan said, as the police cars pulled into the parking lot. “The fibers literally weave into the fabric of my uniforms. I pluck them out with tweezers in the evening. It’s my new hobby.”
Again my lips twitched. “Sorry. I’m happy to take over that job for you, Chief.”
The officers surged around us. Asher pulled up the rear and gave Alvina a pat on the way by. Her posture improved immediately. By the time he reached me, his perma-smile had faded. “Where’s Mom?”
“She was passed out on the couch with Poppy when I left the house earlier,” I said. “But Edna went in a few minutes ago and it’s just a matter of time before—”
My last words were cut off by a scream and we all turned. Mom was rushing toward us in the same dress she’d worn last night. Behind her, in various stages of dishabille, came the dance troupe. Even the men, both in striped pajamas, couldn’t keep up with Mom in her heels.
“José! José!” Mom was as near hysteria as I’d ever seen her. “Ivy, tell me Edna’s wrong.”
“I’m afraid not. It seems like José passed away out here overnight.” I decided to downplay the violence to keep people calm. “Maybe he had a heart attack after all that dancing.”
Mom flung open the gate and ran past Alvina. Keats went over to meet her and escort her to my side. “That’s impossible,” she said. “José was a superb athlete.”
“Heart attacks don’t play fair,” I said. “Keats, can you shut the gate, please. I don’t need to be chasing animals on top of everything else.”
The dog circled around the rest of the guests and pushed the gate closed. He waited there till Jilly, Edna and Poppy pulled up the rear, and repeated the move once everyone was inside. Then he positioned himself to keep watch on Drama Llama and his shifty colleagues.
Some of the officers had crowded around José, muttering to each other as they crouched to study the body. Kellan stood like a statue with Percy still perched on one shoulder.
“Chief Harper,” Mom said. “Why are you just standing around? This is no time to be playing with the animals.”
His lips pressed together in a thin line and he turned his eyes on me. I realized he didn’t want to risk hurting the cat by flinging him off.
“Percy, get down,” I said. “Let the chief do his job.”
The cat leapt across to my shoulder again and I muffled a little scream with my mitten. He was barely heavier than a breeze, but the claws were always a shock on landing.
Keats took up the cause by coming over to make little lunges at Kellan’s legs. It was as good as saying, “Do something.”
Nudging the dog aside, Kellan said, “I am doing something, thank you very much, Keats. Have you noticed my fleet of investigators?”
When he realized he’d answered the dog aloud, and in front of his team, a flush reddened his cheeks. I felt for him but at the same time I was secretly pleased that Kellan understood my genius dog.
“Keats, can you check on Drama?” I said. “He’s starting to get fidgety over there. We’ll need to move the herd out so that the police can do their thing without getting trampled or bitten.”
“Is that what happened?” Stacia, the striking brunette dancer, was the first to speak up. She was clutching a red silk robe over something skimpy and her long hair fluttered in the wind. “Did your animals trample José?”
“My animals are innocent bystanders,” I said, craning to watch Keats try to guide the feisty animals around the crowd. As usual, Drama was resisting, taking little dives at the dog that weren’t dissimilar to the ones Keats took at Kellan.
“Ivy,” Kellan said. “I’ll thank you not to speculate on what happened here. Could you please take your guests back inside?”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know what happened to José,” Mom said, and the other women echoed her cry.
Kellan stared at Mom. Normally he was a match for her, especially while in uniform, but there was a fierce intensity to her gaze this morning. Her mascara and eyeliner had dripped down her face and her red lipstick smudged across her cheek in a macabre mask.
Sighing, Kellan turned and knelt among his officers to join the mumbled discussion. Then he stood and faced the crowd. “There will be an autopsy, of course, but our preliminary findings are that Mr. Batista suffered multiple stab wounds.”
There was a collective scream loud enough to make both Kellan and me jump.
“Who would do something like that?” Stacia said. “Everyone loved José.”
“Maybe that was the problem.” Collin’s voice was calm but it carried all the better for it. “Too many people loved José.”
St
acia turned on Collin. “What are you saying?”
He shrugged. “Ever since I met him, women have been fighting over José. If Dahlia won, maybe that drove someone over the edge.”
“Pardon me?” Mom rose to her full height and put her hands on her hips. “Won what exactly?”
Collin glanced at James and their striped shoulders rose and fell in unison.
“José was a ladies’ man,” James said. “Hard to pin down and proud of it. Seems you’d pulled off a miracle, Dahlia, if he was actually going to settle down here in Clover Grove.”
“Maybe one of the many spurned ladies took issue with that,” Collin said.
“I hope you’re not including us in that vile slur,” Stacia said, trying to keep her long hair out of her face. “We’re longtime friends, and none of us are capable of such a thing.”
“Just because you all had the opportunity doesn’t mean any of you took it,” James said. “There were other ladies. Lots of them.”
“You had just as much opportunity,” Arlene said. “And far more capability to take down a man.”
Loud protests overlapped and I turned to see Edna off to one side, studying the group curiously. Meanwhile, Jilly wove her way toward me and then squeezed my mittened hand in solidarity.
Finally, Stacia’s voice rang out over the din. “It might just as easily have been you, Collin. You didn’t hide your disappointment when José defeated you in the statewide flamenco competition three years ago. And James had a bone to pick with José, too, from what I heard.”
“There was no bone to pick,” James said. “José stole my girlfriend fair and square. If he could win her, she wasn’t mine in the first place.”
Maeve spoke for the first time. “Collin and I were the last ones to bed at around three and there was no sign of Dahlia at the time. I assumed she was upstairs getting a private lesson with José.”
“I doubt that,” Stacia said. “I don’t think they were serious at all. José asked to meet me privately in town today.”
“Me too,” Arlene said. “I know for a fact that Dahlia overheard that. She pulled José aside and they had words.”
Kellan was standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket. His eyes flicked back and forth, as if watching a riveting tennis match. Edna, Jilly, Poppy and I were doing pretty much the same thing.
“Mom,” Poppy said. “Did you have words with José last night? I was barely out of sight for five seconds.”
She turned on my sister. “You know I’d never let any man hold that much sway over me, Poppy Galloway. I have a very full rotation of fine gentlemen.” She gestured to the barn. “There’s Charlie, now. Another man I enjoy dating. José was the best dancer, that’s all.”
There was a murmur through the crowd and I raised my hand. “Mom. You’ve said enough. Chief Harper knows you didn’t kill José Batista in a jealous rage.” I turned to Kellan. “Don’t you, Chief?”
He blinked and shook his head, processing the barrage of information. “Go inside, folks. Warm up. Have some coffee. When I’m done here, I’ll speak to you one by one.”
Mom spun on one heel, raised her hand and snapped, “Poppy. I’ll need a ride home.”
“Everyone,” Kellan called after her. “Including you, Ms. Galloway. Go inside and stay there.”
She kept walking. “I am not submitting to another inquisition, Kellan Harper. Every time I turn around, you’re accusing me of murder.” There was a louder murmur through the crowd as people picked up on Mom’s illustrious past. “So if Poppy won’t drive me home, I’ll hitch a ride. I’ve done it before.”
“Mom!” Poppy and I spoke over each other.
“Fine, I’ll take Buttercup. I still have her ownership papers.”
Mom’s ancient yellow Volvo was now in my care—partly to keep it out of Mom’s reach and partly because it was safer for me to drive than my pickup truck with its feisty standard transmission.
“But not a license,” Kellan called after her. “Officer Galloway. Take your mother inside. You have my permission to use force, as required.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “Keats. Escort Mom to the house, please.”
The dog left the livestock, which he’d gathered in a corner, and raced over to Mom who turned to watch. The closer he got, the lower he got, till his white belly nearly touched the frosty grass. His eyes fixated as he tried to hypnotize her like he did the livestock, with varying degrees of success.
The ploy was a flop with Mom. Instead, she shook her finger at me. “I will not be herded like a common goat, Ivy Rose Galloway.”
“Keats, you have my permission to use force, as required,” I called.
The dog took his first lunge. Mom squeaked and wobbled on her heels. He’d probably given her the sharp little nip that got any critter moving, great and small. Including Kellan. I glanced at my boyfriend and found him fighting a losing battle with a grin. Finally he coughed into his glove to avoid looking unprofessional.
Keats drove Mom to the house with short arcs and occasional nips that made her hop. The squeals carried back to us on the breeze and Edna and Poppy made no effort at all to hide their grins.
“May I suggest the rest of you head inside before you meet the same fate?” I said, forcing a smile. “I don’t know about you, but I could certainly use a coffee.”
Jilly tugged on my arm and whispered, “I set up the industrial urn. That’s why I was a little behind. I figured you needed coffee more than company.”
“You made the right call, my friend,” I said, letting her tow me out. “I’ll get fuelled up and then get to work.”
“Feeding the livestock?” Jilly asked, as we trudged toward the house.
My boots had never felt heavier as I squeezed her hand. “Solving a murder. Again.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m coming,” Edna said, crossing her arms and leaning against Buttercup.
“You’re not coming,” I said, mirroring her pose. “It’s a family meeting. That means it’s for family. Surprise.”
“If Jillian is going, I can go.”
“Jilly’s family,” I said. “Everyone speaks freely in front of her, and they won’t if you’re there, Edna. You know that.”
“You underestimate my interrogation skills,” Edna said. She pulled out a small plastic box, selected a tool and then tried to pick the lock on the driver’s door.
“Leave Buttercup alone,” I said. “And it’s not an interrogation. Just a convening of my nearest and dearest.”
Edna laughed. “Your nearest and dearest are out in that barn, Ivy Rose. Your family are thorns in your side.”
I didn’t bother to refute that. “Regardless, we are family and we’re having a meeting. End of story.”
“Fine. Don’t give me a ride. I’ll take my ATV.”
Jilly tried to grab her arm. “You can’t drive that thing across town, Edna. It’s not safe.”
“And you’re not licensed to drive anything,” I said.
“As if any cops are available to notice,” Edna said. “They’re all out in your pasture and Bunhead Betty is running the show at the station.”
I noticed she’d dropped “Bag of Hammers” in favor of my nickname for Betty and felt a little proud.
“I care about your welfare, Edna,” I said. “In fact, I risked my life protecting you not so long ago.”
“A favor I’ve already repaid.” Her eyes flashed in defiance.
“True. So let’s leave it at square then. Don’t make me send Keats after you, too.”
She sniffed. “I’d like to see him try. Unlike your mother, I’m armed and dangerous.”
“You’re not,” Jilly said, horrified. “Edna, you can’t carry a gun around.”
“Jillian, I may not be licensed to drive but I am licensed to carry firearms.” She gave a little chuckle. “What a world we live in.”
“Do I need to describe what I’d do if you harmed my dog?” My voice was perfectly modulated, H
R training at its finest, but something made Edna ease away just a little.
“No need to get testy,” she said.
“Don’t even joke about hurting Keats,” I said. “Or Percy for that matter. I may not be licensed to carry, but I’ll protect them with my life, just as they will me.”
“Ladies,” Jilly said. “Everyone’s on edge for obvious reasons, but we’re on the same team. I’d go so far as to say we’re all family. Right now, we just need to disperse and get this sorted as soon as possible. Edna, I’m going with Ivy because I care about Dahlia and she knows it, so she’s more likely to share information. It would be super helpful if you’d go inside and surveil the guests while we’re gone.”
“The chief’s already inside talking to people,” Edna said. “Which is why you’re sneaking off to plot against him.”
“I am not plotting against him,” I said. “We’re just… strategizing.”
“In other words, plotting. May I remind you I’m invested in solving this case, too?”
I pushed off the car. “Edna, I know. And Jilly’s right. While Kellan interrogates people individually, the rest will be chitchatting. Make them more coffee. Circulate. Eavesdrop.” I waved one hand and flushed her away from the car. “Be nice.”
Edna adjusted her glasses to enhance her stare. “You do know me, right? Nice isn’t my style.”
“It’s a skill in your toolkit, Edna. Pull it out for a good cause.”
I opened the door and let Keats into the car. There was an orange flash as Percy followed.
“Are you saying even the cat gets to go and I can’t?” Edna said. I’d never seen an octogenarian pout before.