Inn the Doghouse

by Heather Horrocks

  He smiled. “Thought I’d stop by to see how you’re doing.”

  “Never better,” she said, but her voice sounded shaky.

  Grandma said, “A hot toddy could do wonders.”

  DeWayne hugged Grandma. “Are you still peddling those monster toddies? How do you ever manage to pass your church interviews, anyway?”

  Grandma smirked. “My toddies are for medicinal purposes, only.”

  DeWayne sat by Liz, taking her hand as he spoke quietly, “If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I do know and appreciate that. Thanks.”

  Liz leaned against DeWayne and he put his arm around her. It was like they used to be in high school.

  This, however, was nothing like it was in high school.

  ~ ~ ~

  Zach sat on a stool at the round, malt shop-style table in the corner, a bag of cookies at his side as he worked a puzzle.

  The Inn phone rang through to my cell, and I answered it with my standard, “Laugh yourself to death at the Who-Dun-Him Inn.”

  “Is Mrs. Naomi Ross there?” an older man asked.

  Surprised, I said, “Just a moment,” crossing the room to hand my cell phone to her.

  Grandma glanced at her watch and said, “That must be my date.”

  Liz laughed. “What happened to Dr. Ray?”

  “Shush, dear,” said Grandma. “He’s gone for another month or so and we never promised to be exclusive.”

  Wow. Grandma had another beau? When she decided to start dating, she didn’t waste any time! Here I was, struggling to get on with my life, and even my grandmother had a more active love life than I could imagine. It was kind of depressing, and yet kind of inspiring, all at the same time.

  Liz swiped a tissue over her eyes. She’d been crying again, a state that was becoming her norm after twenty-seven years of rarely shedding a tear—a trait that helped make her such a good lawyer. It was definitely a good thing for her to take a leave of absence. When she called, they arranged to cover for her, giving her at least two weeks, and possibly more, depending on how long it took before they could conduct the funeral.

  I crossed over to Zach, ruffled his hair, and dropped in a couple of puzzle pieces. David joined us and asked Zach, “Want any help?”

  Zach pointed to a small pile of orange pieces. “I can’t do the cat.”

  David studied the picture on the box seriously. “Cats are hard to do.”

  “So, DeWayne,” Grandma said, “I hear that Bernie Maynard’s daughter has decided you’d make a pretty good second husband.”

  DeWayne flushed red. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Grandma laughed. “That’s because you’re all man, honey. But I watched her at the anniversary party, and you can believe that rumor.”

  “Grandma,” I said, hoping to keep DeWayne from becoming fixated on Crystal. “I don’t think this is the time.”

  I joined the adults on the couch.

  “Of course it’s the time. The boy needs warning off. You don’t want to get involved with Bernie’s daughter, DeWayne. Remember, since you are always invited to our family events, Bernie might have to be invited to them, too, and who wants that?”

  I caught Liz’s eye. We were quiet for a long moment before we both burst out laughing. We laughed uncontrollably for a few refreshing moments, and some of the tension eased from my body.

  Grandma looked from one to the other of us. “DeWayne, I do believe they’ve both flipped their lids.”

  He shook his head. “No. They’re crazy all the time. Besides, sometimes you have to laugh just to keep from crying.”

  After we calmed down, Liz looked over at Zach and lowered her voice, asking DeWayne, “When will Gene’s body be released? I was told within a day or two.”

  He paused and answered quietly, “It will be a little longer than originally estimated.”

  Liz and I studied him. Liz narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  He hesitated for another beat. “The sheriff’s department demanded an autopsy.”

  Liz’s voice sharpened into her lawyer tones. “Why do an autopsy for a suicide?”

  “Shhh,” I said, shooting a glance over at Zach. He was still intently working on the puzzle.

  “Because,” DeWayne said, looking pained as the bearer of whatever his news was, “it does not look like a suicide, after all.”

  “But there was a note,” Liz tipped her head, looking as confused as I felt.

  “Yes,” he said, “but someone else typed it up. We’re getting fingerprints from the letter now.”

  “Someone murdered Gene?” I asked, my mouth going slack in amazement. “Are you sure?”

  “Shhh,” Liz said in a whisper. “Do they possibly know who?”

  Zach looked up, concerned, but David immediately distracted him with a question about the puzzle, for which I was grateful. Their heads remained bent over the box as David continued to ask questions and Zach patiently explained.

  DeWayne said, “Not yet, but we’re tracking down leads.”

  Liz looked stunned. “It’s like I never really knew Gene at all. I lived with him for years, and yet he was a stranger, someone who infuriated people to the point where they could murder him?”

  DeWayne looked at me and I lifted an eyebrow. He sighed and refrained from commenting on what Liz just said. We all refrained.

  A moment later, Liz turned to me, more businesslike than she’d been since Gene’s death. “Will you please go with me to Gene’s house tomorrow morning? I need to pick up some more of my things and choose a suit for Gene to be buried in.”

  “Sure. I’ll ask Kent to handle the Inn.”

  Grandma shook her head. “I’ll come up and do it for you.”

  Liz and I both said, “Thanks.”

  David told Zach, “The cat’s done. And now I’ve got to go.”

  He stood and looked at me. I also stood. “I’ll see you out.”

  Walking after him on the stairs, I couldn’t help noticing how long his legs were and how good he looked from behind.

  He pulled on his coat and gloves again, and I did the same, before we stepped onto the porch.

  I wanted to ask him the thing that was really bothering me about Gene’s murder. “This makes Liz the number one suspect, doesn’t it? They always suspect the spouses first.”

  “Perhaps. But we know she’s innocent.” He shrugged. “I also got a little more information out of DeWayne this morning.”

  “What?”

  “The murder weapon is a gun registered to a Mr. Herbert Norris, an older gentleman of seventy-five years who retired from the post office ten years ago and kept himself busy by participating in civic matters and helping people around him.”

  “So does this paragon of virtue have an alibi?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I am shocked. You don’t know something? Your sources should be shot!”

  He grinned at me and continued. “The man went to the ER the day Gene died and reported Gene for assault.”

  “No way.”

  “Way. The old man’s ribs were bruised. He admitted that he shoved Gene in anger, and claimed Gene shoved him back.”

  “But why?”

  “That I’m not too clear on. His granddaughter took him to the hospital. The police have spoken with him, and they’re trying to locate her to ask her some questions.”

  “You’re making this up.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Why would DeWayne tell you all of this?”

  He grinned. “The man was willing to tell me anything to get me off the subject of Crystal.”

  Just as the man standing before me was willing to tell me anything to get me off the subject of Liz as the number one suspect.

  I shivered and it sure wasn’t from the cold.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday, November 5

  THE NEXT MORNING, I AWOKE to a weird sound, a shuffling kind of noise. I listened intently in the dark—it wasn
’t even dawn yet—while my heart started jack-hammering.

  I heard another shuffle and raised myself up onto my elbows to see.

  Someone was crawling across my floor. I rose up with a screech, trying to turn on the flashlight app on my phone with shaking hands, only to find my son Army-crawling his way toward my bed.

  “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Grandma said that the early bird gets the worm,” he answered simply as he stood and flopped onto the bed beside me, batting his eyes theatrically. “I want to get a dog. So let’s go early.”

  “Oh, honey, not today. There’s too much to do today. I have to go with Aunt Liz to Park City, and you have to go to school. But first, I may have to go directly to the emergency room for the heart attack you just gave me.”

  “Aw, Mom, you promised we could get a dog.” He looked so much like a miniature Robert, it tugged at my heart.

  “I know. And we will. Just not today.”

  I could hear him grumbling as he went back into his bedroom.

  I glanced at the clock. My alarm normally went off at five-thirty so I could prepare breakfast for my guests, and it was ten minutes earlier than that. We only had two couples staying here until later tonight. Three new couples would soon arrive from Boston to ski, and a family of five was expected to fly in from Phoenix.

  I was glad I spent a few minutes visiting with Eric and Tina yesterday morning, because they checked out right afterward. “Time to get back to reality and the kids again,” Eric told me.

  A quick shower woke me up and I dressed just as quickly.

  My housekeeper, Cielo Freestone, Kent’s gorgeous Italian wife, was expected today to make beds, change and wash towels, and dust, so I didn’t need to mess with any of those things.

  I could concentrate solely on feeding my guests, getting Zach to the bus, and driving my grieving sister to her old home.

  I whipped up some of the delicious new recipes David was teaching me how to make without messing them up. He was much better than my high school Home Ec teacher. A lot cuter, too.

  I set fruit smoothies, a spicy quiche, and muffins appropriately on ice and warming trays. My guests complimented me and asked for the smoothie recipe, which I shared. There were only a few recipes I guarded as secrets. My Almond Punch was one of those.

  I got my son onto the school bus and Liz and I waited for Grandma, who arrived at nine.

  I offered to drive as Liz was still yawning, so we climbed into my Jeep. It was a beautiful ten-minute drive on I-15 to Park City. I turned toward one of the posher parts of a town filled with ritzy areas. Trendy. Unique. Expensive.

  Liz and Gene’s house was gorgeous. It sat up on the mountain so she had a beautiful view of the valley as well as the ski slopes. There was a huge deck off the back where we had celebrated many family parties.

  But she paused on the sidewalk. “I’m afraid to go inside. Isn’t that silly?”

  “We don’t have to do this today.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got to face it sometime. Plus, I want to get a suit to Chad so he can dress Gene for the…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed her fingers to her temples. “Let’s not talk about Gene or death or unhappy things today.”

  “Okay,” I whispered back.

  “Okay,” she repeated, straightening her shoulders before she climbed the steps and unlocked the door.

  The entryway was as large as one of the Inn’s bedrooms, with the living room off to the left, the kitchen and great room in the back, and the den to the right.

  A man was standing there! Liz and I jumped and my heart pounded.

  It was Gene’s brother, Jeff, standing in the den and holding a box of stuff. He looked as shocked to see us as we no doubt must’ve looked upon seeing him.

  Liz actually jumped and swore, while he took two steps backward, and for a moment, I thought he might topple right over. Finally, he caught his balance and Liz regained her composure before asking, “What’s going on, Jeff?”

  He shrugged with a guilty expression on his face. “Just picking up some of Gene’s stuff that belonged to Mom.”

  “You’re taking it to the nursing home for her?” Liz asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

  “Some of it, yes.”

  “May I see what you’re taking?”

  He licked his lips. “Sure.” Setting the box down on Gene’s desk, he stepped away from it. “On second thought, perhaps you’d better look through it first.”

  “How did you get a key?”

  “Gene gave me one so I could make sure the plants were watered whenever he went on business trips.”

  “Thank you so much for doing that.” Liz’s tone was chilly. “May I have the key back now?”

  “Oh, sure,” Jeff said, pulling out his key ring, working the key off and handing it to Liz. “Sure thing.”

  “Thank you,” Liz said. I was impressed she had the self-restraint not to clobber him.

  “Sure. Say, the family would like to get together with you to discuss the funeral, Liz.”

  “I’ve already handled the arrangements.”

  “Oh, sure.” Jeff drew in a deep breath. “I’d like to speak at the funeral.”

  “You would? I thought you were upset with Gene.”

  “He’s my brother and he’s dead, taken from us far too soon. I would like to say some nice things about my brother. Is that so surprising?”

  Liz studied him and then nodded. “All right.”

  Jeff wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. First, he held them behind his back. Next, he stuck them in his pockets. Then, he ran a hand through his hair. “Have the authorities told you that Gene didn’t commit suicide?”

  Liz and I nodded.

  “It’s such a relief to know that,” he said. “I couldn’t believe he would do it. Murder is horrible, but not as bad as suicide.”

  I asked, “Who do you think murdered your brother?”

  He frowned. “I’m sure it was his partner.”

  “Lamont?” Liz asked. “Not hardly.”

  Jeff shrugged. “You asked me what I thought.”

  “But Lamont? He’s your cousin. And he was also Gene’s best friend.” Liz sighed. “Plus, what could Lamont gain from killing Gene? They already split their business dealings. They had a big deal going on, but Lamont is handling that to help me out.”

  “I don’t know about their business. I’ve never done business with either of them.” He shrugged. “It’s just that Gene said a few things about Lamont, expressed some concerns that he had, and I got a feeling that something wasn’t totally legit.”

  “I work with people all the time, Jeff, but I don’t go around murdering them.” Liz was still cool. “Have the police interviewed you yet?”

  He nodded. “I told them the truth. I got upset that night so I was driving in the canyons. I do it often. I stopped in at a little café in Heber and chatted with one of the waitresses there.”

  “Well, that ought to be easy enough for the police to verify and take you off their list of suspects.”

  “Yes,” he said to Liz, “but I don’t think you made it off yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I was in the police station, I overheard one of the detectives say that the perp might well be the wife since she stood to inherit a great deal of money.”

  ~ ~ ~

  While Jeff beat a hasty retreat, Liz and I stared at each other. Then, as one, we turned back to the box he had filled and intended to take with him.

  There were a couple of newspapers stuffed inside, which he had wrapped around items.

  I pulled out a small stereo system. “This looks expensive.”

  “It’s what Gene wanted for his last birthday. A Bose stereo.” We stared at each other.

  “Not something his mother would likely care about,” I said.

  “It wouldn’t have any meaning for her.” She unwrapped a jewelry box and gasped. “This is my necklace! Gene paid a small
fortune for it at Neiman Marcus. Jeff’s wife always admired it.”

  “Why would Jeff be taking all these expensive things? Does he need money?”

  “That’s what I heard,” a woman’s voice behind us made us jump. Liz juggled the expensive necklace before safely clutching it to her chest as we both turned to see who was in the house with us now.

  A short, purple-haired lady in a flowered dress, with black between the flowers, stood there, her eyes inquisitive. I wondered if hers was the kind of inquiring mind that liked to read the tabloids.

  “Agnes!” Liz gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you come in. And I saw Jeff leave. He looked very upset.” She continued to walk toward us, looking back and forth between us. She finally settled her eyes on my sister and pulled her into a hug. “I am so sorry about what happened to your husband, Liz.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I studied my jeans and orange T-shirt compared to Liz’s jeans and green T-shirt. But then I realized the dark circles beneath Liz’s eyes probably gave her away, not our clothing.

  She gave Liz a hug. “I wanted to make sure you were all right, honey.”

  My heart did a polka against my ribs. If I kept this up, I wouldn’t make it to my twenty-eighth birthday.

  Liz nodded and smiled politely, but I could see she was still ticked off at Jeff. “We’re fine. Thank you for checking.”

  Then, as if remembering her manners, Liz turned to me. “Vicki, this is my neighbor, Agnes Gotschaub. Agnes, this is my twin sister, Vicki.”

  Agnes, the nosy neighbor who had lived next to Gene and Liz for years, greeted me, then turned back to Liz. “So why was he so upset? Did you catch him trying to take another box of stuff out of here?”

  Liz’s eyes widened. “He already took boxes out?”

  “Just one other one about fifteen minutes ago. When he took the first one out, I called your cell phone number to tell you, but you didn’t answer. I was fixing to call the cops when I saw you drive up.”

  I looked at her in amazement. “I didn’t notice you outside. How did you see everything?”