Double Dimple

by N. C. Lewis

  As I turned the Tahoe onto the main road, my mind was already way ahead of me, racing through possibilities and avenues to investigate.

  Chapter 41

  The animal shelter is usually a short drive across town. Today though, the afternoon traffic was heavy, as the Hill Country Jazz Festival played out its last few days at Old Monroe's Ranch.

  Forty-five minutes later I pulled onto the gravel drive of the Medlin Creek Animal Shelter. It was three forty-five, and the parking lot was almost full now. I pulled into a spot under the shade of a clump of oak trees some distance from the main entrance.

  Volunteers, some with their pets, hurried across the gravel lot toward a large event tent. It stood on a patch of land, at the side of the building.

  "Take a seat anywhere you like," boomed a familiar voice over the microphone system. At the front of the tent was a small raised stage. Behind a lectern, microphone in hand stood Roger Romantic.

  I settled down at one of the rounded tables; a waiter served a glass of iced tea, and I nibbled a French pastry.

  Roger moved the microphone toward his mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen, our event is about to begin."

  As I sipped my iced tea, I glanced at the other tables. I recognized many faces. Mr. Burlington from Gregg's Hardware Store sat next to Gratia Violeta. Jenny Jones, owner of the Smile and Dial Gift Shop laughed at a nugget of gossip from Ma Jenkins, owner of the dojo. Kidd Cole stood by the door chatting animatedly with Hugh Pentecost.

  At the front of the tents was the table of honor. Augustine grinned and nodded as Mayor Helen Felton waved her arms around. Seated next to her, Nancy Fisher sat quietly reading something from a book. Doctor Tobias, the town medic was also seated at the table. The old-timer snoozed, his arms folded across his chest.

  I strolled over to the table to speak with Augustine. Nancy Fisher looked up.

  "Ollie, great to see you."

  She stretched out her hand, her head tilted upward, and we shook hands.

  "How are things going with your oil well?" she asked.

  I told her everything.

  Her face crumpled into a scowl and she drummed her fingers on the table. "That's not acceptable. Ollie, leave it with me. I will sort it all out for you. You have my personal guarantee that your oil well will open." She wrote something in her notebook.

  A wave of relief washed over me as I made my way back to my table. The nightmare of the abandoned oil well would soon be over. I tipped my head back and let out a jubilant laugh. A few heads turned, but I didn’t care.

  There was a sharp hiss. Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 tinkled over the speaker system. Roger tapped the microphone. "Welcome, this special event is organized by the Medlin Creek Animal Shelter, which we all know is a pseudonym for Augustine Granger."

  The audience laughed.

  Roger glanced at his notes. "Without any further ado, let me introduce Augustine."

  The audience cheered.

  Augustine took the stage, her face as bright as a harvest moon. "My, oh my, what a week! Well, I'm not here to dwell on gruesome events, but to share with you some exciting news. Come on up here, Nancy."

  Nancy glanced up nervously, then made her way to the lectern. In a wooden voice she said, "As many of you know, I sold the family business, Bee Mound Drilling, this week. The cash from the sale will settle in my account next Monday."

  The audience cheered and yelled. Many, like me, hoped their "payday" would show up soon.

  Nancy looked up and grinned. "There is more than enough money to support Uncle Bill's ongoing medical care, and more money than I need to retire to a small farm. So…I've decided to donate two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of the proceeds of the business sale to the animal shelter."

  A wild whoop of joy went up from the crowd. Augustine was amazed and her jaw fell open. She had expected a smaller donation, so she danced a light-footed jig across the stage. Roger joined in, spinning and twirling with his best robotic moves.

  As the excitement died down, Nancy continued. "That's not all. I've spoken with Mayor Felton, and she has some exciting news."

  Mayor Felton took the stage, and she read from a script.

  "I've commissioned a study to investigate the possibility of the town offering significant financial support for the animal shelter. This also includes a proposal for the town to donate land to enlarge the shelter."

  Wild joyous shouting erupted from the crowd. Augustine fainted. Roger and Mr. Burlington helped her from the stage, and Doctor Tobias waved smelling salts under her nose. Augustine's eyes flickered open. "Is it true?" she cried.

  Doctor Tobias smiled then nodded. "Augustine, it's not a dream. It’s true," he said in a fatherly voice.

  Chapter 42

  The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of activity. It was seven p.m. before I knew it, and I was pulling into a parking spot at the storage units in the warehouse district. I had business to settle with Kitty Marley.

  The sun was dimming every moment, and the harsh, dusty air filled with the squawk of grackles. They were everywhere: on the rooftops, in the trees, their unblinking dark eyes watching everything.

  I had barely turned off the ignition and stepped out of my vehicle when Kitty appeared out of the shadows, her lips as thin as a line and the honeyed voice gone. "Over there, where no one can overhear us." She pointed off into the distance toward a darkened corner, twirled, and marched off at a pace.

  I followed behind, sucking air deep into my lungs, trying to keep up. At a brick wall where the weak, yellow light of the lamppost scarcely reached, she stopped.

  "What is it you want from me?" she said, her dark eyes remote and sly.

  "About you and Dick, he was your husband?"

  She waited a moment, then took a deep breath. "Yes, we married almost a decade ago." She corrected herself, "Were married…"

  Inwardly I smiled. The woman had confirmed what I already knew. Now on to Igor. "The life insurance policy you took out on Igor, was it for a million dollars?"

  Kitty regarded me for a moment before continuing. "Very clever aren’t you, Doctor Stratford?"

  I pressed on. "Did you buy a million-dollar life insurance policy on Igor Langer?"

  She regarded me again. Kitty was a woman who thought about her answers before she gave them. "Not quite—the policy is for nine hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars."

  "Okay, not quite a million. What I can't understand is how you were going to marry Igor given that Dick was your husband."

  Kitty chewed on that for a moment. "Dick is no longer with us. I'm free to marry whom I choose."

  "So, you'll marry Igor?"

  "He won't last long," she hissed, "the man has a weak heart. As I told you before, I'm not gonna hitch my future on an empty wagon. The life insurance policy is, well, my insurance policy."

  An image of the television detective Columbo flashed into my mind. The part where he asks the suspect point-blank if they committed the crime. "Did you kill Dick Doxson," I said, taking a little step forward.

  Kitty looked at me sharply. "Snake! You can't prove that," she screamed, springing forward with her fists clenched into tight balls.

  "Good evening," said a voice neither of us could quite see.

  Out of the shadows stepped Deputy Dingsplat with Millie at his side. The trap had sprung.

  Kitty blinked hard, blinked again then half turned and darted away into the shadows.

  Deputy Dingsplat took up the chase. "Stop, or I'll shoot." We followed close behind. But somehow Kitty Marley slipped away into the night.

  ◆◆◆

  We gathered back under the dim yellow rays of the lamppost. Deputy Dingsplat scratched his head. "Well, she certainly is a person of interest in the death of Dick Doxson. I daresay an officer will pick her up later tonight or tomorrow."

  "Can't wait to use the headline: ''Shoshone Man Murdered at the Hands of a Secret Wife.'" grinned Millie. "What a twist."

  Deputy Dingsplat rubbed his chin. "From what I ove
rheard, Kitty didn't confess. Better hold that headline until we pick her up and get the medical examiner's report. Guess then we'll find some bulletproof evidence."

  "Thank you for showing up tonight," I said, turning to Deputy Dingsplat.

  "It's the least I could do, seeing as how you helped solve the case of Teddy Tumpin." The officer half smiled. "But please leave the rest to local law enforcement; we'll take it from here."

  "Sure thing," I replied, turning and heading toward my vehicle. "Don't want to step on any toes. Anyway, I'm a professor of business statistics and a business owner, not an amateur sleuth."

  Chapter 43

  I started the engine but didn't drive away. Instead, I watched Deputy Dingsplat pull out in his cruiser followed by Millie. For a while, I sat in silence, contemplating it all.

  Half closing my eyes I remembered a phone call from long ago. "It’s about your husband," an official sounding voice said. "I’m afraid he’s dead."

  My eyes snapped open, a vague sense of unease swept over my body. I began to think about the storage unit. Then, without any real plan, I opened the car door and slipped out.

  On the roof of a storage shed, a shadow flickered in the dark, and I glanced up. At first, I didn't see anything. The shadow flickered again. I paused, looked long and hard and then saw it—a grackle, twice the size of a regular bird. Its beady eyes staring down at me. In a kind of curious fascination, I watched as its beak opened wide and it began to squawk. Other's quickly joined in the chorus, until the entire flock was screeching, shrieking, and screaming.

  "Only grackles," I muttered, "nothing to fear." Kitty was on the run, probably skipped town and headed for Mexico. This place was empty save for some noisy birds and rodents. I hadn't seen any rodents, yet, and didn’t want to either.

  Police tape wrapped the storage unit. I bent low, pressing my ear to the unit door as if trying to catch some whispered words, some final message from Barbara's long departed soul. It was only my breathing that I could hear, nothing else.

  As on my first visit, the door had no lock, and all I had to do was reach out my hand pull the handle and push. I stretched forward with my hand and hesitated, letting it fall back to my side. Deputy Dingsplat's words echoed in my ears—"leave the rest to local law enforcement."

  "Sure thing," I had said. Such an easy promise to make when Kitty had bolted, and Deputy Dingsplat stood tall and proud in his uniform. But I wasn't doing this for Kitty nor Deputy Dingsplat, I was doing it for Barbara Nadel, for John, and for my peace of mind. What was the harm in searching for the truth, especially when my gut told me the answer lay inside this unit?

  My hand reached for the door handle.

  I pressed down and pushed.

  "What the hell do you think you are doing?" an angry voice boomed.

  I gasped, stumbling backward into the arms of Igor Langer.

  The man's eyes bulged, and his leathery face tightened as I wriggled out of his grip.

  "What are you doing here?" he croaked, his eyes flashing with suspicion.

  I didn’t think it wise to mention Kitty, so I stalled. "Wanted to take another look around. Didn’t want to disturb you though."

  "I've already had two bodies discovered here this week," he said, walking backward, keeping his eyes on me.

  "Igor," I said, trying to explain, "I was here earlier with Deputy Dingsplat, taking a look around."

  "Then you'll know that's police tape," he fumed. "You can't enter in there. I'm going to report this." He reached for his cell phone and began typing in numbers.

  Just then a dark, late model Mercedes swung into the parking lot. The headlights swept across the storage units, focusing the beam on us. The car door flew open. An elderly gentleman with gray hair, wearing a dark, pinstriped suit and shiny, patent leather shoes stepped out. He stood by the door for a moment, with his wrists crossed at the waist. Then strode toward us.

  As he drew close, I realized it was Doctor Thomas Tobias, from the Medlin Creek Community Clinic. He looked like a Baptist preacher.

  "Igor, you ready?"

  Igor put down his phone. "Yep, checking the facility before we leave, Doctor Tobias. Found this woman creeping around."

  The doctor took a couple of steps forward, and his steel-gray eyes flashed with recognition. "Didn’t we meet at the animal shelter earlier?"

  "Almost. I had a chat with Nancy Fisher; you were sitting next to her."

  Doctor Tobias turned toward Igor and chuckled. "Ollie Stratford is famous around these parts."

  "Famous!" Igor's eyes bugged.

  "Yep, Doctor Stratford's solved several murder mysteries, including a case I was part of—the mystery of the magic mumbles. Ollie's the real deal—a genuine, modern-day, amateur sleuth."

  Igor shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and his eyes appeared to jut from their sockets. "A-a-a-an amateur detective?" he stuttered, staring hard at Doctor Tobias.

  The doctor nodded.

  Igor half turned and glanced in my direction. "Oh, I see. Doctor Stratford, it seems I owe you an apology—"

  "Please call me Ollie," I interrupted.

  Igor continued, "What with all the bodies showing up, I'm a little edgy. In this town, it won't be long before people start putting two and two together and coming up with five. Man, it's hard enough being a caretaker without the whole town pointing fingers at you as some sort of murdering monster. The whole thing has made me edgy."

  "That's not good," interrupted Doctor Tobias. "Igor, you've got to watch that old heart of yours."

  Igor patted his chest. "Ollie, I've got a weak ticker."

  "Nothing that medical science can't fix," added Doctor Tobias.

  Igor smiled. "Doctor Tobias is driving me to Dallas for a medical examination. If all goes well, I'll go in for surgery next month. Please don't mention it to Kitty as I don't want to worry her."

  Doctor Tobias patted Igor on his shoulder. "Your grandpa was a good friend. Did I ever tell you about the time he saved my rawhide when I fell into Sweet Bee Mound? Thought there was honey in those caves and I soon found out it was full of wasps."

  The doctor looked at his wristwatch. "Come on Igor, we'd better be going, or else we'll still be driving in the morning."

  Igor turned to look out toward the main road. "Okay, Doctor Tobias, I want to get back before six o'clock tomorrow evening. Let's go."

  The two men walked me to my Tahoe and waved as I drove out onto the main road. I'd had enough adventure for one day. It was time to go home.

  Chapter 44

  Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. I'd left the curtains open the night before and could tell by the angle of the golden rays along the wall that it was late. Reaching for my cell phone, I squinted at the screen; it was already after eleven, and my body still ached from the dojo class earlier in the week.

  A hot shower washed the remnants of sleep from my mind and eased the soreness. I toweled off, slipped into a pair of relaxed-fit, blue, stretch jeans, and a salmon-pink blouse.

  In the kitchen I fed and watered Bodie and let him outside, then I sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of healthy cereal. Today was Friday, my day for relaxation and puttering around the house.

  After cleaning the kitchen, bathroom, and watering the potted plants, I decided to spend the rest of the day with a book. I searched for the James Patterson bestseller I'd nearly finished and found it in the living room.

  I slumped onto the couch, readjusted a pillow, and read. I breezed through the remaining two fast-paced chapters. The ending left me breathless and hungry for another. For an instant, I thought about driving to the library, but it was Friday—my day of relaxation.

  "Better look at some of those e-books," I mumbled.

  The e-book reader was in the bedroom, on the nightstand. I'd collected several hundred electronic books, but only read a fraction. Flipping it open I pressed the "on" button. A blinking battery flashed across the screen. I'd have to wait for it to charge.

  Then I remem
bered Barbara Nadel's murder mystery. The book was still on the passenger seat in the Tahoe. I hurried along the narrow path, through the little iron gate, and onto the dirt driveway.

  The book, a slim hardback volume, was less than two hundred pages. The inside flap had the story blurb. I read it with interest:

  Georgie and Jack's honeymoon home comes with a double-sized garage. When Jack can't find the key to the front door of their dream home, he breaks into the garage. He finds a dead man lying on the floor with his door key in one hand and a picture of Georgie in the other. Who is the mysterious dead person? Why is he holding a picture of his new wife? And how did he get Jack's key?

  "Interesting, very interesting," I said aloud, flipping to the back cover. It had a black-and-white photo of passable quality showing a somber Barbara sporting dark hair and dark eyes. Her head tilted upward, staring into the camera. The back inside flap had a brief biography:

  Barbara Nadel grew up on a ranch in California. An outdoors woman, she loves nothing more than wandering the countryside by day or night. A lover of animals, large and small, she hopes one day to retire to a small farm, raise chickens, vegetables, and build her ideal home.

  She must have loved the Hill Country, I thought, because you could be outside virtually every day of the year.

  Back in the living room I slumped onto the couch and read; when I finished I put the book down, jolted by a thought that swam through my mind.

  I stood up and walked from the living room to the bedroom where I sat on the bed, thinking. The chimes of the windup clock on the mantel in the living room disturbed the air, but I did not move. A picture was forming in my mind, and I wanted to see the whole thing before I stirred.

  At last, the image was clear. I grabbed my keys, handbag, a bottle of water, and headed out toward the Tahoe.

  Chapter 45