Asking Fur Trouble

by Ally Roberts

  Tentatively, I took a step toward the car. I had no idea what she would do when she saw me. Based on her actions from the previous day, it was just as likely she would run me over with her car as it was that she would simply acknowledge me with a surly glare.

  But when she turned her head sideways and looked out the window, her eyes locking with mine, she did neither of those things.

  Instead, I heard the engine shudder to a stop and watched as she pushed open the driver’s side door.

  She stepped out. She was dressed in a long black dress that looked entirely too warm for the heat and humidity already settling over the island that morning. A fat strand of pearls encircled her neck and pearl drop earrings hung from her lobes. But the thing I noticed most were her red and swollen eyes. It looked as though she had been crying for hours.

  I cleared my throat. “Is…is everything okay?”

  It probably wasn’t the best question to ask, given the circumstances.

  Ginny shook her head.

  “Is this about the funeral?”

  She nodded.

  I shuffled my feet, not really sure what to say.

  But she didn’t need me to say anything.

  She had plenty to say on her own.

  “It’s all my fault,” she wailed.

  I froze.

  Was Ginny…confessing?

  Slowly I reached for my phone, wondering if now would be a good time to call the police.

  “I don’t know how all of this happened,” she managed to say between sobs.

  “How she died?” I glanced down at my phone. The keypad was now visible.

  “Everything,” Ginny cried. “The gambling, first and foremost. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of control.”

  I said nothing. Mostly because I didn’t know how to respond.

  “I thought if I had more money to gamble with, I’d have a better chance of hitting a big payday. So I rushed through jobs. Jobs that Caroline trusted me with.” A fresh sob tore from her chest.

  “And then when she closed the business, I was worried, of course. There went my job.”

  I stiffened and pressed the number 9.

  “I know she did it so she wouldn’t have to fire me,” Ginny continued. “Because we were such good friends. But the ripple effect was just horrific.”

  I pressed the 1.

  “I knew that it might create financial stress, closing the business, because of the divorce, and then I found out that she was letting Amber go because she couldn’t afford to keep her around, either.” She hiccupped. “And then to top it all off, someone went and killed Caroline.”

  My finger was ready to press the last number but I hesitated.

  Someone?

  I frowned. So she wasn’t confessing?

  Ginny slashed at the tears streaking down her cheeks. “I just wish I could go back in time and make better choices. I never would have started gambling, I would have done better work. I would have done anything I could to make sure none of this happened.” She sucked in a shaky breath and her face contorted as a fresh round of tears filled her eyes. “Because if I had, Caroline might still be here today.”

  I stared at her, my mouth hanging open.

  She wasn’t confessing; this much was clear.

  But something else seemed like it was becoming clearer.

  Crystal clear, in fact.

  Ginny Potter didn’t kill Caroline.

  Either that or she’d been an award-winning actress in some former life.

  I pushed the home button on my phone and closed out the call I’d almost made.

  I still had one question, though. One question I needed her to answer to assure me of her innocence once and for all.

  “What about the statue?” I asked.

  She nodded and wiped at her face again. “I did have it. And I did take it to the consignment store. But it’s not for the reason you think.”

  THIRTY TWO

  Five minutes later, we were packed inside Ginny’s car, racing away from her house and down the road. Trixie was in the backseat, her tongue lolling and her tail wagging as we embarked on what she probably thought was a new adventure.

  It wasn’t.

  My sole goal was to confront a murderer.

  And I knew just where to go to do that.

  “It’s only a few blocks,” Ginny said. She’d stopped crying and was hyper-focused on the road in front of her. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were turning white.

  As for me, I was the exact opposite of the eerily calm woman sitting next to me.

  I was a mess of nerves.

  The few minutes that passed in the car felt like hours, and I spent every agonizing second mentally berating myself. How could I have been so blind? So incredibly stupid?

  But I didn’t have time to dwell on that too much, not when we were tearing down the street and almost to our destination. I had to think of just what was I was going to do during the confrontation I knew was coming.

  Ginny pulled up to the church, the same one where I’d attended the picnic with my parents just days earlier, and I pushed the door open before the car even stopped moving. I jumped out, abandoning my dog in the backseat and forgetting to shut the door behind me.

  I raced up the old concrete steps to the church’s entrance and pushed open the red wooden door. Soft music filled the vestibule, the sound of a pipe organ playing somber music coming from the sanctuary. I followed the plaintive notes into a room brimming with people already seated in wooden pews. A black casket sat in the middle of the altar, covered in a large bouquet of white roses. Several arrangements of lilies and greenery were positioned behind it. The scent of frankincense lingered in the air.

  It was sort of weird that her body was in the casket prior to the cremation, but I'd never really understood the need to view the dead before their bodies were put to rest.

  I scanned the backs of the heads of all the people sitting in the pews, trying to find who I was looking for.

  But slowly, heads turned toward me, and I realized nearly everyone in the church was somehow aware of my arrival.

  I spotted Asher right away, sitting next Leah and the man he’d gone to talk to at the church picnic.

  Tate was there, Betsy sitting just behind him. I thought fleetingly that I was happy they weren’t sitting together.

  My parents were there, too. My mother, dressed in a modest black dress, looked puzzled as her gaze settled on me. My dad just scowled. He was probably upset that I was crashing the funeral.

  Daniel was seated in the front row, and even from where I stood at the back of the sanctuary, I could see his tear-filled eyes and mottled complexion. It looked as though he’d already begun crying. A younger man was next to him, and I almost did a double take. I couldn’t be completely sure, but I thought I was looking at Oliver Ford, the boy I didn’t date in high school. The boy who had grown into a man that looked suspiciously like his father, complete with the receding hairline. The man whose photo Chief Ritter and Detective Simcoe had shown me when they accused me of plotting to kill Caroline.

  An elderly pastor wearing a white robe stood at the pulpit. His expression was one of mild concern.

  I shifted my gaze to the other side of the sanctuary. Poppy and Chief Ritter sat next to each other. She fixed me with a hard glare and I watched as she nudged her husband and pointed in my direction. His answering frown made a shiver run down my spine.

  I sucked in a deep breath.

  I knew I wasn’t responsible for Caroline Ford’s death.

  And now, thanks to Ginny, I knew who was.

  Slowly, I raised my hand and pointed to a row of pews.

  “You,” I said. My voice was so loud and so clear that it echoed through the room.

  Amber stared at me, her brow furrowed.

  I stared back at her. “You’re the one who killed Caroline.”

  THIRTY THREE

  The organist stopped playing.

  Amber looked at me.
“What?”

  “You,” I repeated, my voice growing even louder. “You killed Caroline.”

  A few gasps and nervous twitters moved through the crowd gathered in the sanctuary.

  Amber laughed, a little nervously. Her eyes darted from me to the pastor still standing at the pulpit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  But I knew better. My conversation with Ginny Potter had crystallized everything for me.

  I took a step forward, trying not to notice how many pairs of eyes were locked on me, following my movement as I headed down the center aisle toward Amber.

  “You purposely tried to blame Daniel,” I said. “You had access to the house. And Caroline was letting you go from your job.”

  Amber struggled to maintain control of her expression but I could see the anger lurking behind her eyes. “She wasn’t letting me go.” Her mouth pinched tight. “She knew she wouldn’t need a housekeeper once she closed the business.”

  “Which meant you were out of a job,” I pointed out.

  Amber’s eyes narrowed. “This is ridiculous,” she announced. She glanced around the room. “Caroline was one of my best friends. This…this woman has no idea what she’s talking about!”

  Another round of murmurs and coughs moved through the room.

  I looked around, trying to gauge the reaction of the crowd of people there for Caroline’s funeral.

  What I saw was not reassuring.

  Tate and Betsy were both watching me with puzzled expressions, and Asher’s brow was furrowed, as if he were trying to figure out exactly what I was suggesting. Chief Ritter looked like he was ready to arrest me, and his wife, Poppy, was sitting next to him with a smug expression on her pretty face. Even my own parents were eyeing me warily, and I was pretty sure my dad was five seconds away from leaping to his feet and dragging me from the room. Probably thinking he could ground me or withhold my allowance for pulling this kind of stunt.

  But I didn’t care.

  I knew I was right.

  And I was going to prove it.

  I folded my arms across my chest and stared Amber down.

  “Why did you give the statue to Ginny? The statue used to kill Caroline?”

  An audible gasp rose from the crowd.

  Chief Ritter lumbered to his feet, his eyes dark with anger. “This is not the time or the place—”

  I glared at him. “I’m not talking to you,” I barked. I turned my attention back to Amber. “Now answer the question! Why did you give the statue to Ginny?”

  Amber gulped a couple of times, looking an awful lot like a fish desperate for oxygen. “I…because I knew Caroline would want her to have it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Baloney. You gave it to her because you wanted it gone form the house. Because you didn’t want it tagged as evidence. Because you were the one who used it to kill Caroline.”

  “Enough!” the chief roared. He pushed past his wife to get out of the pews, but to my surprise, he didn’t head toward Amber.

  He headed right toward me.

  I backed up instinctively, and my heel bumped into something furry. I turned and saw Trixie standing behind me, her tail wagging.

  “Trixie, go!” I said. I was pretty sure dogs weren’t allowed in church and even though I had a law enforcement officer bearing down on me to arrest me for murder, I was still concerned I’d get in trouble for having Trixie in the church.

  I turned back around and pointed at Amber. “She’s the one you want! She killed Caroline!”

  I could tell from the chief’s expression that he didn’t believe a word I was saying.

  I wasn’t sure anyone in that room did.

  One thing I did know, though. Amber was inching out of her own pew, casting furtive glances at a door on the far side of the room.

  “She’s going to make a run for it!” I yelled. “Stop her!”

  Amber jumped out of the pew and headed for the door.

  Chief Ritter stopped advancing and turned, just in time to see Amber wobble her way toward the side door. She clearly didn’t have much experience running in heels.

  But he did nothing to stop her.

  “Stop her,” I repeated.

  He stood there, frozen in place.

  I glanced around. No one was doing anything except watching in disbelief.

  I knew I had to do something.

  Trixie was still by my side. I whipped off my shoe and showed it to her.

  “Sit.”

  She sat immediately, her tail now thumping the carpet. It was the only trick she knew.

  I chucked the shoe into the air, watching as it arced its way toward the side door.

  I closed my eyes, said a silent prayer—I was in a church, after all—and yelled, “Fetch!”

  I opened my eyes. Trixie was still sitting, her head cocked, staring at me. I slipped off my other shoe and chucked this one in the air.

  “Fetch!” I said again, more desperately this time.

  Trixie hesitated for only a second before she hurtled toward the second shoe.

  Amber never saw her coming.

  And Trixie didn’t stop or slow down in her pursuit.

  She crashed into the back of Amber’s leg, which was just enough to send the woman sprawling to her knees.

  I was already sprinting toward them.

  I dove to the floor, my knees sliding across the carpet as I landed on Amber. She and I both grunted on impact.

  Trixie piled on top of us, her tail wagging, her bark playful.

  I stayed on top of Amber and reached out to ruffle Trixie’s ear.

  “I guess you do know a few tricks after all.”

  THIRTY FOUR

  Chief Ritter was staring at me, and I couldn’t tell whether he wanted to throttle me or thank me.

  Probably both.

  We were standing outside the church while Caroline’s funeral was in progress. Just thirty minutes earlier, my dog and I had tackled Amber Peterson to the ground. It had taken a few minutes but eventually Chief Ritter took over. After informing Caroline’s housekeeper that she was under arrest, he’d helped her to her feet and quietly led her out the side door of the church.

  Trixie and I had followed, and within a few minutes, I heard the sound of the organ as the organist began to play again.

  Detective Simcoe arrived a few minutes later and, after putting Amber in the back of the squad car and getting a quick debriefing from the chief, he’d peeled away from the curb, presumably heading to the station to get her confession.

  “I guess I owe you an apology,” the chief said stiffly.

  I was sitting on the back steps of the church with Trixie by my side. I was barefoot, since both of my shoes were still inside the church.

  “Apology accepted,” I said.

  He cocked his head. “How did you figure out it was her?”

  “Dumb luck, I guess.”

  It was the truth. I hadn’t used any magical investigative skills. If anything, the fear of being falsely accused—and then punished—was what had motivated me to keep digging. Self-preservation could be a pretty powerful motivator.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Amber meant to kill her,” I offered.

  Chief Ritter gave a brief nod.

  “I think it was an accident,” I continued. “I think they were arguing and Amber lost her temper and…well, I think it was an accident.”

  “Maybe.” Chief Ritter shrugged. “Maybe not. The DA will have to figure out what to charge her with and what her motivations might have been.”

  For all of his lack of investigative skills, it at least seemed he had a good handle on this particular part of the case.

  “Well, I’m glad there seem to be some answers now.”

  And I was. I hoped that Daniel could rest a little easier, knowing who was responsible and knowing his name wouldn’t be dragged through the mud again. And I hoped that Ginny could rest a little easier, too. I knew this didn’t solve her debt or gambling problem
, but not being a suspect in her friend’s death probably lifted a little weight off of her shoulders.

  The chief cleared his throat. “That dog of yours did good,” he said, nodding at Trixie.

  I glanced at her. “Yeah.”

  “She always listen like that? The department has been considering bringing in a canine unit. She sniff out drugs?”

  I frowned. “I wouldn’t know since I don’t do drugs…”

  He managed to look at least a little sheepish. “Sure, of course. Well, we could train her. See if she’s any good.”

  I just stared at him. Did he really think I’d just hand over my dog to the police department, to go train and live with someone else? She was my family. In that moment, she sort of felt like the only family I really had.

  “I’m not interested.” I saw the look on his face and quickly added, “She’d be terrible at it. She doesn’t know any commands and she rarely listens.”

  “She fetched your shoe when you told her to…”

  I nodded. “That was a total fluke. Trust me. She never listens.” I rubbed Trixie’s ear and she turned and licked my cheek. “Besides, she’s not available. She’s a pet, not a work dog.” I paused. “Scratch that. She’s not a pet. She’s my pet.”

  Chief Ritter grunted. “Hmm. Well, if you change your mind, let me know. We might be able to arrange for payment. Since I know money is tight for you…”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “We’re fine. Thanks.”

  I got to my feet and Trixie did too.

  “If there’s nothing else, we’re going to head home.”

  “You’re not going back in for the funeral?”

  I shook my head. I’d already disrupted the funeral once, when I’d barged in and accused Amber of murder. The last thing I needed to do was waltz back in right in the middle of it.

  Besides, I felt as though I’d honored Caroline’s memory a different way. I’d figured out who was responsible for her death, which I hoped would bring closure in its own way.

  Chief Ritter’s eyes traveled the length of me, final stopping at my bare feet. “You planning on walking home?”

  I nodded. “I don’t have my car here.”