by Krista Davis
Nina squinted at Olive. “And why is it that you happen to know this when no one else does?”
Olive took a bite of omelet. I got the distinct impression that she was buying time to consider how she would word her answer.
“My family was involved. I really can’t say more than that.”
Suddenly it all made sense. That’s why Wolf had such a fit about Roscoe. Anne must have had an affair with Roscoe or Audie. My money was on Audie. If Roscoe had had an affair with Anne, surely Olive wouldn’t report it so unemotionally.
Francie tapped my arm. “Great omelet. But you haven’t said anything about Wolf.”
Hadn’t I? They all watched me. “Well, Anne’s affair certainly explains a lot. No wonder Wolf didn’t want to talk about it—especially with me. It must have crushed his male ego. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.”
Olive waggled a finger at me. “I suspect you’re right.”
I finished the last savory morsel of omelet and wished I had more. “It also explains why he thought she left. If she was in love with someone else, she might have taken off with him.” Assuming, of course, that it wasn’t Audie.
The grinding hum of the bulldozer came to a halt. We all noticed and listened, the silence of the machine ominous. No one said a word. My gaze met Nina’s anxious eyes. Why hadn’t the machine resumed its noisy work? My heart beat faster. Surely it didn’t mean… couldn’t mean…
Outside, someone screamed. It had to be Mona.
Wolf’s footsteps thundered down the stairs, with the clatter of Daisy’s right behind him. We jumped to our feet and dashed through the family room to the sliding glass door. I pulled the drapes open. As far as I could tell, Wolf didn’t even notice us.
Kenner strode across the lawn in our direction.
Wolf opened the door. “Did they find her?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dear Sophie,
My brother built one of those big composting bins and spends his weekends adding manure and turning it. I don’t have time for that, but I’d like to add some organic matter to my garden. Isn’t there an easier way?
—Too Tired to Compost in Parsley Bottom,
West Virginia
Dear Too Tired to Compost,
Grandma Bauer didn’t call it composting, but she buried her organic kitchen waste in her vegetable garden each day. She covered it with soil and a screen to keep the raccoons out. It biodegraded without any help, adding nutrients to the soil.
—Sophie
I wished Wolf had thought through his words before he asked. It was such a simple question, but it made him sound as if he expected them to find Anne’s body buried in his yard.
Kenner’s eyes took a quick inventory of us. “Will we find her, Wolf? It would go a lot quicker if you would tell us where to dig.”
Nina gasped, and although I’m not a violent person, I wanted to punch him. Wolf didn’t seem to hear.
He looked in the distance, over Kenner’s shoulder. “They’re bagging something. What did you find?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He just took off running.
Daisy ran along beside him.
“Where’s the cadaver dog?” I asked.
“It didn’t find anything,” growled Kenner.
Hope restored, I ran to join the others.
I panted worse than Daisy after jogging in the humid air. Nina grabbed my shoulder for support and whispered, “I have got to start working out.”
I leaned forward to see what Wolf was looking at. A cop held a knife in his gloved hands. My heart sank. It had an extra long blade and a hefty weight to it. I knew because I had just used an identical one in Wolf’s kitchen.
“It’s just a rusty kitchen knife.” Nina released me for a closer look.
With a very sharp point. It could have easily been used as a murder weapon.
“That’s not rust!” exclaimed Mona. “It’s blood!”
“Nonsense.” Olive spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve buried a good dozen of my kitchen knives by accident over the years. I bring them out to cut a vegetable off the stem, or they fall into my compost, and I bury them along with the peels.”
Wolf nodded at the cop—a silent message to put the knife away. “They’ll be testing it. We’ll know soon enough.”
“Or you could just tell us what you did to her!” Mona screamed.
Wolf ignored Mona’s outburst. His back ramrod straight, he ignored everyone and didn’t turn his head once on the way back to his house. I arrived two minutes after him, but he’d already locked the door and was in the process of drawing the drapes. He couldn’t have made himself more clear.
“He locked us out?” asked Nina, breathing hard. “He’s in a serious clinical depression. This isn’t like him at all.”
“Wolf?” I tapped on the glass. No response. I tried louder “Wolf? You have Daisy in there with you.”
The curtain swung to the side, the door slid open, and Daisy walked out. I thrust one foot inside, just enough to prevent him from getting rid of me right away.
“Listen. I know you don’t want to talk, but you can’t stay here. The press is already gathering and going nuts on your front lawn.”
He motioned me in and slid the door shut. “I have a place to stay, but I need help getting out of here without being followed. Would you swap cars with me?”
“Absolutely. As long as you don’t mind Daisy in your car.”
“Right now I like Daisy a whole lot more than most people. She’s welcome to drive it if she wants to.”
It was a silly thing to say, but I was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go out to your car with Nina and Francie. That ought to get the attention of the people out front—at least for a minute or two. While we’re doing that, you dodge through the bushes to Olive’s property.”
“Olive?” He choked out her name like she was the devil.
“My car is in her driveway.”
He rubbed his forehead and turned, like he hoped he might find a better solution behind him. “Okay. Wait here.” He charged upstairs and returned with a duffel bag. He’d clearly planned ahead.
We exchanged keys. It felt oddly final, like I might never see him again. “Are you… Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head. “Are you ready?”
I took his duffel bag, in case anyone in the backyard, like Mona, was watching. We stepped outside, and he locked the door behind us.
In a low voice, I said, “Francie and Nina, come with me. Olive, you go with Wolf. He’ll explain.”
We walked toward the side of his house. When we reached the big rhododendron, I passed the duffel bag to Wolf. I didn’t wait to watch him. We needed to appear out front to distract the onlookers. I ducked around the rhododendron, with Daisy leading the way on her leash.
In seconds, we were surrounded by people asking questions. I pressed the button to unlock Wolf’s car from a distance so we could climb in without delay. Daisy hopped into the driver’s seat and jumped over the middle console to the backseat with Nina as though she understood what we were doing. To my delight, when I adjusted the driver’s seat so I could reach the gas pedal, the car was very nearly surrounded. No one, but no one, was over by the rhododendron.
Nina and Francie cackled wickedly when they realized what we had done. After they high-fived, Nina asked, “So is Wolf going to your house?”
“Nope. He didn’t say where he’s going.”
“Does he have family around here?” asked Nina.
“Not that I know of. His sister lives in Maine, and his parents are in Pennsylvania.”
Even though I was driving, I caught the odd expression on Francie’s face.
“What?”
“He must have another girlfriend.” Francie always spoke her mind. No pussyfooting around, no matter how much she might hurt someone.
“I don’t think so.” I didn’t!
“You don’t have the best record for noticing another w
oman moving in on your men. Natasha scooped Mars before you realized it.”
“You lose one husband to someone else, and no one ever lets you forget it,” I jested. “That would make Wolf a real worm, and he’s just not like that.”
From the backseat, Nina said, “Do you think Mars is a worm?”
Her question took me by surprise. “No!” Okay, she’d made her point. Maybe I was blind to it when the men in my life strayed. For years I believed that my marriage to Mars was over before he moved on, while my friends and family insisted that Natasha had targeted him while we were still married. Mars and I certainly grew apart on our own. But I wasn’t so sure anymore that Natasha hadn’t sped it up a bit.
“We should have followed Wolf,” said Francie.
“I think he would have recognized his own car tailing him.”
We fell silent until Francie asked, “Did we just aid and abet a murderer in escaping?”
I slammed on the brakes in shock. “Of course not!”
“I like Wolf as much as the next person, but you can’t deny that the buried handbag and knife look incredibly bad for him. If he killed her, he’s probably on the lam right now, getting out of Dodge before they find the body.” Francie twisted in her seat to see Nina.
“In your car,” said Nina. “The cops will be looking for his license plate. Pretty slick of him.”
They couldn’t be right. Had he just pulled a fast one? Had I been a willing dupe? “He wouldn’t have taken my car…”
“Why not?” asked Nina. “His car is pretty snazzy. He probably thought it was an even exchange.”
“Just you wait,” added Francie. “I bet you’ll find your car parked near your house. He knows you’ll tell the cops that he’s driving it. He’ll know he can’t keep it for long.”
I hated their theories. “Aha! Caught you. On the one hand you’re claiming that he snookered me, yet on the other hand, you’re claiming he’s so decent that he would leave my car where I can find it. I don’t think you can have it both ways.”
Francie grumbled under her breath. “That boy is in big trouble.”
She was right about that. I parked Wolf’s car in front of Francie’s house.
“How are they coming on your garage?” asked Francie.
I stifled a shriek. I’d been so absorbed by Wolf and his problems that I had forgotten all about it. Who knew what Troy and his crew had done in my absence? Hustling from the car, I could barely wait for Nina and Francie to get out so I could click it locked. As soon as I had, Daisy and I dashed to my house, only to be met in the foyer by Natasha.
“Is something wrong? What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Troy sent me to wait for you so you wouldn’t see the backyard. I used our key. Knew you wouldn’t mind.”
What a sneaky guy. I would bet anything Troy had sent Natasha inside to get her out of the way of his crew. I smiled pleasantly and chatted about the brutal heat while I walked directly to the sunroom to see what was happening in my backyard.
Natasha blocked me but let Nina and Francie through. “Sophie! You know you can’t fool me.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I have to meet Roscoe for lunch, so I’m going upstairs to shower and dress.”
Natasha planted her hands on her hips and eyed me. “Why would you lie about your lunch date? Did you think I would leave and you could sneak back to see what Troy is doing?”
“I’m not trying to trick you. I do have a lunch date with Roscoe.”
“You picked the wrong lie, Sophie. I happen to know that Mars is having lunch with Roscoe today.”
Mars was invited? Interesting. Roscoe must be planning something for one of Mars’s clients. I couldn’t help tweaking Natasha a little bit. “Or is it Mars who is lying about his lunch date?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. What had gotten into me? I wasn’t usually so wicked. Daisy and Mochie followed me upstairs. On my way to the shower, I snuck into the bedroom overlooking my backyard. Ack! They’d torn down part of the fence between my yard and Francie’s. The garage had been partially framed but there were additional posts in places that I just didn’t understand.
Fortunately, they had set my potting shed right, and it looked fine in its new location.
After a quick shower, I dressed in a cool, pale-green linen sheath with a V-neck. Since Roscoe was fairly informal, I thought I could get away with thong sandals in a similar green. This time, though, I did bother with a little bit of makeup and took the time to blow my hair into a passable style that curved inward around my throat.
Dangling peridot earrings and a gold bangle dressed it up a notch without being too formal.
When I returned to my kitchen, Natasha gave me the sort of look my mother used on me when I wore ratty sweats around the house. “That’s hardly appropriate luncheon attire. Sandals?”
“It’s hot. Haven’t you heard? Pantyhose are out.” I forced a smile.
“Haven’t you heard? They’re back! You’re always a step behind, Sophie.” Her smirk faded and she gasped. “Oh my gosh, it’s no wonder that you’re testy.” She held her arms wide and came at me like a locomotive. She hugged me to her and patted my back. “I just heard about Wolf.” She let go. “I can’t believe he killed his wife! You could have been next!”
“We don’t know that he killed her.”
“Don’t worry, Soph. It’s only natural that you’re in denial.”
“I’m not in denial.” I didn’t know what I was in. I’d never been so conflicted in my life. I wanted to defend Wolf. I had to defend him. Yet, in my heart of hearts, deep down, Anne’s handbag had left a big, fat stinking doubt in me.
“Oh, sweetie. Now that they have the murder weapon, it will only be a matter of time before he’s arrested and convicted. He won’t be able to fool anyone anymore.”
I wanted to say something that would contradict her in an unassailable way. But I feared she was right because I couldn’t come up with a single clever idea. I left her in my kitchen nursing a tall glass of ice water.
At eleven forty-five, I drove into the circular driveway in front of Roscoe’s home. In the brutal summer heat, the old trees and white house looked like the perfect place for a cool respite.
I parked in the shade of a tree and left the windows open. The charming porch beckoned. No wonder Roscoe had remained in his comfortable house instead of moving to a mansion. I rang the doorbell and waited. Hurried footsteps approached the door on the other side.
Violet opened the door and stared at me. Her black hair was drawn back so tightly it pulled her skin taut. She frowned at me but said nothing.
“Sophie Winston. I have a meeting with Roscoe.”
She scowled and stepped aside. Without uttering a single word, she turned and walked through the foyer into a hallway. I guessed I was supposed to follow her. Once again, she led me through a family room with a brick fireplace. Decorated much like Roscoe’s study, it had a masculine feel, with cushy, old leather furniture. I knew the drill this time and opened the door to let myself out on the terrace.
Across the green lawn, a door slammed shut at the guest house. Cricket, Roscoe’s assistant and Audie’s fiancée, walked toward me, her copper hair gleaming in the sun. Unlike me, she wore office clothes—pantyhose, a chic navy suit, and heels so high that I would have toppled over and broken both ankles. I suspected she was aerating the lawn with the spiked heels as she walked.
“Did Violet throw you out here in the sun? I’m so sorry. We’re all in a bit of a frenzy around here this morning.”
“Oh?”
She motioned to me to follow her. “I’m afraid something rather valuable has been stolen.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dear Natasha,
The neighbor’s cat keeps coming to my yard to hunt birds. I treasure those sweet birds, and it makes me very angry when I see that cat bothering them. How can I keep it out of my garden?
—Birdwatcher in Catnip, Kentucky
Dear Birdwatcher,
>
Turn on the sprinkler.
—Natasha
Cricket stopped for a moment, rested her hand on a patio chair for balance, and scratched her calf. “Roscoe is beside himself. He may want to cancel lunch.”
“Of course. We can reschedule it for any time that suits him.”
“Thank you for being so understanding.”
She opened the exterior door to Roscoe’s den. I couldn’t make out a thing. My eyes had to adjust to the dark interior.
“Cricket! Did you call Audie?” I recognized Roscoe’s deep voice before I could see him clearly.
“Audie’s in meetings all day. You know how he is about turning off his phone.” She turned to me. “Audie’s company policy—he goes wild when he’s talking to someone who keeps reading texts or taking calls. I don’t know how you think Audie can help, Roscoe, it’s not like he would have taken it.”
“Sophie, I’m sorry this had to happen right before our lunch. What I want to know is who hates me enough to steal from me? I’m good to my people. Real good.”
Mars murmured, “Hi, Soph.”
The paneled room had finally come into full focus. A huge empty space in the bookcase clued me in about what was missing. “The mallard print is gone?”
“Where’s Mindy?” barked Roscoe.
Cricket didn’t seem to be the least bit disturbed by Roscoe’s demanding tone. “She’s dressing to go shopping. She needs some things for your trip tomorrow.”
“Sophie, sugar,” said Roscoe, “Mars says you’re something of a sleuth. How did the burglar get in here?”
I glared at Mars. “I’ve just gotten lucky a few times. I’m not a professional. You need the police, Roscoe. They can fingerprint—”
He cut me off. “No police! Good heavens, I’ve got a reputation to maintain. Once you go to the police, it ends up all over the newspapers and on TV. Besides, I don’t want every thief within a ten-hour drive thinking my house is an ideal target.”