The Prune Pit Murder

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The Prune Pit Murder Page 5

by Renee George


  I hung up as Pearl walked back into the living room.

  I raised a brow as she held up a key.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  She smiled. “A spare key to Abby’s apartment.”

  Chapter 5

  There was no talking Pearl out of going to Abby’s apartment. So, I called Parker and told him I’d be late. It was getting darker earlier, now, so we waited until closer to seven in the evening to head into town. Pearl took great care to tell me every time I needed to slow down, speed up, when there was a stop sign or traffic light, and she gave me a heads up every time a turn came up, even though I usually had my turn signal on already. By the time we arrived at the Sunset Apartment Complex, I’d never been so glad to reach a destination in all my life.

  I parked on a side street in a two-hour parking space. “Give me the key.”

  “Why?” she asked, her fingers wrapped tightly around the key.

  “I need you to stay out here in the truck. I’ll be able to get in and out quicker, and hopefully without notice, if I do it alone.”

  “I have the key because Abby has Opal water her plants and feed her cat when she’s out of town. I have every reason in the world to be in there. You don’t.”

  It was hard to fault her logic, but I was going to try. “If it turns out her death was on account of foul play, anything we disturb in there can contaminate the crime scene.”

  Pearl dug into her purse and pulled out a pair of yellow, elbow-length cleaning gloves. “I’ve thought of that. I have a pair for you, too. Besides, I might see something in her place that you don’t,” she protested.

  “I have very good eyes,” I said. And nose and ears. Just like the big, bad wolf. Only a cougar, in my case. “I won’t miss anything. Besides, I need you to keep a lookout. If anyone like the police or someone suspicious goes inside the building, honk the horn.”

  “How in the world am I going to know if someone looks suspicious or not? At my age, anyone under the age of fifty looks suspicious.”

  I glanced at her. “Uh huh.”

  “Present company excluded, of course.” She opened the passenger door and hopped out. “Now, you can sit around and argue with yourself all night. I’m going inside that apartment.”

  “You’re plain stubborn,” I told her.

  “Damn right,” she told me back. Her grim-set mouth and stern eyes dared me to keep fighting her.

  “Fine. You can come.”

  “There was never any doubt,” she said, tugging her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go. It’s getting close to my bedtime.”

  “Let’s try for stealth. Okay?”

  “I’m a woman over seventy. Being invisible is not a problem.”

  She wasn’t wrong. We passed two women, one in her twenties, another in her forties, and a middle-aged couple in the hall on the way to Abby’s first-floor apartment. They barely looked in our direction. I guess two women, one slight and the other elderly, didn’t register as odd for any of them.

  I noticed an elaborate doorbell for the apartment across from Abby’s that wasn’t on any of the other doors.

  “Probably the old lady we passed,” Pearl said when I pointed it out. “You can have them installed if you’re hard of hearing. Opal wanted to get one last year, but it’s not like we get a lot of visitors we don’t see coming.” She eyed me up and down. “Present company excluded.”

  “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to apologize.”

  “As many times as it takes. Now, come on, Nancy Drew. We have clues to find.” Pearl’s hand shook as she forced the key into the door.

  I scanned the hallway for any onlookers, but it was empty now. “Hurry,” I said.

  “I’m hurrying,” she said with great irritation. I heard a click, and Pearl’s satisfied, “Yes.” She opened the door and waved me in. “Age before beauty,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes but went inside. Pearl closed the door behind us and gave the lock a twist. The place was a simple one-bedroom apartment layout. The living room and kitchen were on the right, and on the left was a bathroom, closet, and bedroom. There was a litter box in the corner of the tidy living room. The scent of cat urine and feces was minimal, which meant Abby had cleaned the box in the past day or two, or it was really good kitty litter.

  “Here.” Pearl handed me a pair of kitchen gloves.

  I frowned but took them. I slid them on, the size of them swallowing most of my arm. Pearl had a similar issue. It was almost comical, the two of us walking around with rubber gloves all the way up to our armpits.

  The first thing I did was lift the litter box lid. It was clean except for a few pieces of scat. “Would someone suicidal be worried about cleaning cat poop?”

  “Where is Audrey?” Pearl asked.

  “Is that the cat’s name?”

  “Yes. She’s mostly white with a black patch between her ears and little black spots over her eyes. Abby said the cat reminded her of Audrey Hepburn. That girl spent too many afternoons watching old movies with old ladies.” Her expression grew melancholy as she endured the memory, a painful reminder that her young friend was gone. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. “Now quit messing around with cat poo and get down to finding a smoking gun.”

  “She wasn’t shot.”

  “Don’t sass me,” Pearl said. “You know what I mean.”

  “Why don’t you check the kitchen, and I’ll tackle the bedroom.”

  Pearl looked like she wanted to argue with me, but then nodded. “Fine. But call me if you find anything important.”

  “Same,” I told her.

  I held my breath as I walked into the bedroom. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I hadn’t thought it would be a room full of cat knick-knacks and wall art. The main focal piece over the head of the bed was an oil painting of a white cat with a black spot between its ears and smaller spots over its eyes. Abby’s precious Audrey. It was obvious she loved that cat.

  The bed had been stripped, probably bagged by the investigators. There was some minor staining on the mattress. One dark spot about midway between the head and the foot on the right side. Old blood, maybe? I reluctantly bent down to get a good whiff of the area and was pleasantly surprised to find it was coffee, and not blood or bodily waste. It was fairly fresh as well. Who drank coffee in bed?

  There was a television mounted on the wall directly across from the foot of the bed. I hadn’t seen one in the living room, which meant she probably spent most of her time in her bedroom. Burgundy and royal blue blackout curtains covered the windows. There was a bookshelf in the corner of the room with a small but comfortable-looking blue reading chair. Next to the chair was a cat tree with several tiers and small cubes with cutouts going almost all the way to the ceiling.

  I focused on the reading area. There was a book on the small side table next to the chair. A bookmark hung out of the top. The title was True Crime: Modern Forensic Tales. Someone had handwritten the letters A and B on the cover. The bookmark was on a chapter about someone named Kenneth Barlow.

  I heard a bell tinkle. I put the book back where I found it then got down on my hands and knees.

  “Audrey,” I crooned. “Where are you?” I didn’t hear the bell again. I pushed my inner cougar forward, letting my throat and chest change enough to rumble a pleasant purr. After a few seconds, I stopped to listen. I heard the domestic cat purring. The sound came from under the dresser. “Hey, girl,” I said. “You can come out.” I wiggled my fingers under the raised base.

  The cat purred even louder, but she didn’t budge.

  “Fine.” I’d come back to her later. Next, I searched Abby’s bedside table. There was a framed picture of her with her cat, some freesia-scented hand lotion, a box of tissues, lip balm, and nail scissors. Nothing that screamed clue.

  I sighed. So far, the search was coming up empty. I took several pictures of the room with my phone, just in case, then went to the utility closet next. Inside was a small-capaci
ty, stacked washer and dryer combo. I opened the washer. The clothes inside were damp. The dryer had clothes in it as well, a load of whites. Abby had hung scrubs on a bar over a folding table on the right side of the small space.

  Next, I went into the bathroom. Once again, I was greatly disappointed. It was all standard bathroom fare. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, hand soap, curling iron, and hair dryer. In the medicine cabinet, she had adhesive bandages, peroxide, isopropyl alcohol, bacitracin, and the strongest drug I could find was ibuprofen. I lifted the toilet tank lid, mostly because I’d seen someone in a movie stash stuff in there. It was empty of anything that didn’t belong.

  A tinkle sounded as something rubbed against my leg, making me look down. Audrey the cat, who wore a bell on her collar, had decided to come out of hiding.

  “Hey, you,” I said. “I bet you’re hungry.”

  She meowed. I didn’t speak domestic feline, but I took her vocalization for a yes. I reached down and scooped her up. She clung to the rubber gloves as I carried her into the living room.

  “Did you find something?” Pearl said.

  “A cat,” I replied. “Nothing else.”

  “Well, crap on a cracker.” Pearl sighed. “Me either. I really thought we’d find something to prove Abby didn’t do this to herself.”

  “Oh, of that I’m certain.”

  “But I thought you didn’t find anything.”

  I held up a gloved finger. “I just need to check something out.” I went into the kitchen and found Audrey’s food and water dishes. They were both empty. Next to her food dish was a plastic tub with cat food in it. I scooped some out and put the cat down in front of her bowl. She tucked in and immediately began eating.

  “It’s as I thought,” I mused.

  “Well, don’t keep the audience in suspense,” Pearl said. “Spill.”

  “Abby had cleaned the kitty litter, was on a second load of laundry, and hadn’t left out any extra food for a cat she obviously loved very much. I think if she was going to kill herself, she wouldn’t have bothered with the first two things, but she certainly would have left enough food out for Audrey just in case it took a while for someone to find her.”

  Which made me wonder exactly how they’d managed to find her so quickly. I’d ask Nadine to check on it.

  “Is that enough to convince the police?” Pearl asked.

  “Probably not. But it’s enough, I think, to raise some suspicion. I’ll call Nadine and Reggie tomorrow and let them know what I think.” I’d promised myself I’d stop investigating deaths, and that included this one, so I added, “And then I’ll let them take it from there.”

  “Sure,” Pearl said, unconvinced.

  “Can you take the cat? It can’t stay here.”

  Pearl groaned. “Temporarily. I’m not a cat person. Or a dog person.”

  “Then what kind of person are you?”

  “I’m a people person,” she said, a sly smile quirking up her lips. “You saw a demonstration firsthand when you walked into my bathroom.”

  “You are too much.”

  “Not according to Bob.”

  “I don’t need details.”

  “You’ll call me tomorrow after you talk to Nadine and the doctor?”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” She stooped down and picked up Audrey. “Help me get her stuff to take home.” She took off one glove and stroked the kitty’s fur. Audrey purred. Pearl smiled.

  I had a feeling Audrey would make a cat person out of Pearl yet.

  Chapter 6

  Sunday afternoon, I met Nadine and Reggie for lunch at The Cat’s Meow to discuss Abby Rogers. Buzz was good enough to let Smooshie hang out in his office, and since she had a giant memory foam dog bed Buzz had bought for her and a big beef bone to chew on, she was more than happy to stay, at least for as long as it would take us to get through a meal.

  Reggie hugged me and Nadine hard before we sat down. “We hardly see each other anymore,” she said. “I miss you guys.”

  I felt a tinge of guilt. Three and a half months ago, Buzz told Nadine our secret. It took her a few days to wrap her head around the fact that her partner and her best friend were both shifters, but she ultimately came around. I wanted to tell Reggie, but it was complicated. She was in love with Parker’s dad. Which means, even if she took the news as well as Nadine, she wouldn’t be comfortable keeping a secret from him. See. Complicated. Unfortunately, it had put a strain on our together time. I’d been able to use work and classes and Parker as an excuse, but I could tell Reggie felt a shift in our dynamic.

  “I miss you, too,” I told her.

  “How are classes going?” she asked.

  “I finally finished all my general requirements and the first thirty hours of degree work. Which means,” I tapped a drum roll with my fingers, “I get to start my final two semesters on Monday.”

  “We are going to throw the biggest party for your graduation this spring!” Nadine said. “We’re so proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” I gushed. “My schedule is pretty full. I have one class on Monday and Wednesday on campus, two on Tuesday and Thursday, one online course. It’s going to be intense, between work at the rescue and my internship at Petry’s Pet Clinic, but I’m really excited.”

  “Greer says you made the dean’s list again,” Reggie said. Her cheeks pinked up when she said his name.

  Parker’s dad, Greer, was in his early fifties, and he might have had a little gray, but it didn’t make him any less handsome than his son. Like Reggie, he was part of my tribe now, my family, and I couldn’t have been happier for two people to find each other. Parker’s mom had died of cancer when he was in high school, and it had taken him a hot minute to adjust to his dad loving another woman. But Greer and Reggie had been seeing each other for well over a year now, and Parker had come around.

  “I did make the dean’s list,” I bragged. I’d overcome test anxiety and had been getting the highest scores in my classes. I was proud of that accomplishment. “How are things with you and Greer?”

  “Yeah,” Nadine asked. “Any wedding bells in the future?” Her tone was light and teasing, but Reggie looked stricken for a moment.

  “What is this, an interrogation?” She reached up and smoothed her already-smooth black hair then put her hands in her lap. I could see movement in her shoulders, as if she were fidgeting under the table.

  I raised a brow. “Are you nervous about something?”

  In a hushed tone, she said, “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Tell anyone what?” Nadine whispered.

  Reggie brought her hands up to the table, her right hand covering her left. She did a slow-peek reveal to show us a beautiful circle-cut diamond set in a gold band on her left ring finger.

  Nadine squealed.

  Reggie’s eyes widened and she slammed her right hand down over the ring. “No one can know until Greer tells Parker.” She put her hands back under the table and when she brought them back up, the ring was no longer on her finger. “He’s going to do it this weekend.”

  “This is going to be a really hard secret to keep,” I said. Especially since my gut reaction to the news was to call Parker immediately and tell him everything. I would resist the urge for Reggie and Greer. “Mum’s the word.”

  Nadine made a lock and key motion at her lips, then threw away the imaginary key. “I’m thrilled for you,” she said after. “When? Where? How did it happen? We need details!”

  Reggie looked around. We didn’t have any diners in the booth behind us, but there were enough people in here to make the conversation not private. “I’ll tell you both, I promise. Just not right now.”

  Freda came over to the table. “Well, hey, ladies. So good to see you. What would you all like to drink?”

  “Coke,” Reggie said.

  “Sweet tea,” I added.

  “Just ice water for me,” Nadine ordered.

  “Coming right up.” S
he turned on her heel and headed back behind the breakfast counter.

  “Are you using a new face cream?” Reggie asked her. “Your skin looks fantastic.”

  “Thanks,” Nadine said. She smiled. “I picked up some sea salt scrubs when Buzz and I went on vacation.”

  “Well, text me the name of it. I’ll order me some.” She pinched some loose skin on her neck. “I’m not getting any younger.”

  “You’re stunning,” I said. “Just like a blushing bride.”

  “Stop it.” A hint of a smile crested her lips, pleased by the comparison.

  “Absolutely,” Nadine agreed. “You look great.”

  “For my age,” Reggie said.

  I giggled. “Because you’re such a dinosaur.”

  Reggie squawked and flapped her hand, mimicking a pterodactyl.

  Nadine snorted. “All right Jurassic Park, settle down.”

  Freda delivered our drinks. “You ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?”

  “What’s good today?” I asked.

  “Since Buzz is back, everything. I mean, God knows the man needed a vacation, but no one works a grill like him.”

  Nadine said, “He’s been going a little stir-crazy.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you all did, but I haven’t seen him in this good a mood in months,” Freda said. “I’m glad to have the old Buzz back.”

  I knew why they went to California, but they’d been very buttoned up about their trip. But if he was a changed man, it’s because he’d finally changed into his cougar form. Buzz had forced himself to stay human for the four months leading up to the trip to increase his chances of causing his therian DNA to go dormant long enough to get Nadine pregnant. Whatever the outcome, I was glad he was done with the nonsense. I’m not sure his or Nadine’s sanity could have taken another month of his volatile mood swings.

  “He’s glad to be back home,” Nadine said. “We both are.”

  Reggie ordered a chicken salad, Nadine ordered spicy chicken wings, and I ordered a triple-decker bacon cheeseburger with fried onions, and an order of sweet potato fries.

 

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