by R A Muth
“We can at least sit at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Sounds good to me!” Lifting the cat, I held it to my chest and leaped to my feet, rushing across the attic and down the stairs where I planted myself on the bottom step. Hazel followed and sat a few steps above me. Her phone was in her hand before her jeans touched bottom, fingers swiping and tapping at the screen. When she held it in her upturned palm, I saw she’d turned on speaker mode.
“Hey, Witch Hazel,” Gavin’s voice echoed in the stairwell as he addressed his sister by his childhood nickname for her. She liked it about as much as I loved being called Queen Victoria but complaining about the nickname only served as an incentive for him to continue.
“Gavin, we need your help,” Hazel began.
“Help with what? I’m on shift today.”
“Good, because we need your help over at the Livingston mansion.”
“Who’s we? Is Queen Victoria there with you?” He chuckled. “What’d you two do now, kill the old broad?”
“Gavin, it’s not nice to speak ill of the dead! Get over here now!” I blurted. “We’re a little freaked out and could use your help!”
“What? Wait. Are you telling me there’s an actual dead body?”
“Yes!” Hazel and I shouted in unison.
“Don’t touch anything. Don’t move. Just stay where you are. I’ll be there ASAP.”
The screen on Hazel’s phone returned to her wallpaper image, a selfie of herself and Sven that she took against the backdrop of the Rainbow Bridge at Niagara Falls.
Duffy took me there once. Without passports to venture across the border into Canada, he only took me as far as the state park and then refused to budge from the car. He stayed behind while I hiked the short distance alone. A moment that should have been romantic was now forever etched in my mind as a bitter memory. Was it too much to ask to have someone in my life who could share these things with me?
The cat chose that moment to tuck its head under my palm.
“What’s up, fella? Are you as freaked out by the poor dead person as we are?”
As if it understood, the creature gave a pitiful meow and settled onto my lap.
“You’re sure Mrs. Livingston never said anything about a cat?” Nearly asleep on my lap, the cat gave little purr-like snores. I rubbed its head between the ears, and the purring increased in volume.
“Nope. Not a peep.”
“Do you think Mrs. Livingston is the skeleton in the trunk?” Even as I asked the question, I knew the likelihood of it being anyone else was slim.
“Do we have any reason to believe it’s anyone else?”
“Well, it’s not like we could make out any facial features on the skull. Plus, you said Mrs. Livingston was traveling for the past few weeks. Wouldn’t someone have to be in a wooden trunk a lot longer to be, well, like she was?”
“Meaning what exactly?” Hazel raised an eyebrow.
“Like she was, like, disintegrated. Doesn’t that take time?”
“Why would I have any knowledge of this, Tori? It’s not like I sit around binging crime shows in my downtime. The last time I gave any thought to human decomposition was in high school biology class.”
I bristled, assuming her comment was a dig at one of my favorite hobbies. “Well, I’m sorry none of my favorite crime shows on television covered this.”
“By ‘this,’ you mean a squeaky-clean skeleton.”
An icy chill tickled my spine, and the cat nuzzled closer against me. “Yeah, that is what I mean, and, for the record, ‘squeaky clean skeleton’ isn’t the most ideal selling point for the estate cleaning side of our business. Not to speak ill of whomever that is, God rest their soul, but how will this affect our future jobs?”
Sirens wailed in the distance, and I breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone had told me that I’d have ever been glad to see Gavin, I’d have called them a liar. Current circumstances had me doing an about-face, however. Soon three loud raps from the front of the house, followed by a rousing chorus of The Grand State of Maine, interrupted our conversation.
Hazel rose, sidestepped around me, and disappeared down the hall. I stood and followed, arriving in the entryway as her brother and another uniformed officer made their way through the front door.
“Is today the day I get to give you a ride in my patrol car, Queen Victoria?” The leer on Gavin’s face was enough to make my skin crawl, but his habit of jangling the handcuffs attached to his belt was wicked creepy. In my heart, I knew he was harmless, but his teasing took inappropriateness to a new level.
Hazel smacked her brother’s bicep. “Knock it off, dork.”
“Stop hitting me.” Gavin shifted his weight and rolled his eyes.
“Or what, you’ll tell our Mom? Puh-leeze.”
“Hey, kids. Dead body upstairs, remember?”
“So, were either of you able to make a positive I.D.?” Gavin leaned toward me, hands on his hips.
Taking a step back, I shook my head. “Nope. Whoever is in that trunk was pretty far gone by the time we made the discovery. There’s no way to identify based on a visual.”
Ignoring her brother altogether, Hazel held out her hand to the other police officer. “Hi, I’m Hazel, and this is my friend and business partner, Tori. We own Bubbles and Troubles, the area’s premier cleaning service. We’ll clean anything, from attics to toilets.”
I cleared my throat and frowned. Had she forgotten that our goal was to stop cleaning toilets?
Chapter 6
Hazel ignored me and continued, “Let’s get you up to speed. Mrs. Livingston, who owns this wonderful home, hired us to clean out her attic. We started Friday, but when we came back today, we found something a bit, um, unexpected.”
“Hi, I’m Davis Sterling, Officer Rjasko’s new partner. It’s nice to meet you both, although I wish it were under different circumstances.” The other officer gave my hand a light shake before releasing it to shake Hazel’s as well.
“Enough chatter, people. Maybe you two would like to show us to the victim now?” Gavin jangled the handcuffs hooked to his belt and winked at me. “This way, we can determine if a crime was committed. If it was, then someone needs to go for a ride in the back of my car. Of course, you’re always welcome to call me if you need one, Tori.”
Gavin was such a jerk. He knew my Beetle was stuck in my driveway because he put the boot on himself. The fact that he installed it due to my unpaid parking tickets was another story altogether.
Despite knowing that Gavin’s leer would follow me, I led the way to the corpse. The moment I stepped into the attic, the cat wriggled free from my arms to land at my feet, where he butted his head against my ankle. Moving to one side, I gestured to the open trunk at the other end of the long, narrow room. “There you go. Everything is like we found it upon opening the trunk.”
Gavin took a couple of steps toward the trunk. He stopped, raised his forearm in front of his face, and grimaced. “Gee whiz, sis. What did you do to it?”
“What do you mean, what did we do to it?” Hazel challenged from behind me.
“What did you do to it after you opened the trunk? It smells! And it’s not a good smell!” Gavin started waving his hands around in an attempt to clear the air, but he only resulted in stirring the stench, circulating the noxious odor throughout the attic.
“Gavin, stop doing that! You’re making it worse.” I cupped my hand over my mouth and nose in a futile effort to filter the air I breathed. Clamping my mouth shut to avoid tasting the noxious odor, I glared at the back of his head. By the time he turned around, my eyes watered.
Gavin pointed to his new partner and said, “You. Get over here. Take some pictures and record any notes. I’m not going any closer than I have to, and, since you’re the new guy, I don’t have to.” He started to guffaw but gagged on what I hoped was a mouthful of the offending smell.
Yeah, it sounds terrible, but any stench Gavin breathed in now as a little karma for years of his making lewd j
okes at my expense.
“This smell is making me sick to my stomach! I have to get out of here before I puke!” Gavin turned and rushed toward the stairs. In his haste to shove past me, I started to fall back but caught myself before landing on the pile of suitcases I inventoried on Friday. A loud yowl echoed through the attic, offering Gavin a momentary distraction. He made a grab at the cat, but it ducked around me and cowered, its body trembling against the backs of my ankles.
Glaring at my bestie’s brother, I ordered, “Hey, watch it! The cat didn’t do anything to you!”
Gavin opened his mouth to respond but gagged again and scrambled toward the stairs. The second he was out of sight, a breeze blew in through the open window and cleared the attic of all traces of the funky stink.
“I’m sorry for Officer Rjasko’s behavior,” the other officer offered, breaking the silence with words that held a soft drawl.
“You don’t have to apologize for my brother,” Hazel purred, similar to the sound made by the cat. The cat who at the moment was rubbing its head against my lower calf. “Did you move here with your family?”
“Um, no. It’s only me, ma’am.” The poor cop looked like a deer frozen in place by oncoming headlights.
Hazel brightened. “Oh? No wife or kids? Tori also happens to be single.”
I gave her a look that I hoped said, are you serious, girlfriend? There’s a dead body right over there!
Before any of us could say another word, the cat began howling and batting my shoes with its paws.
“Is your cat okay, ma’am?” Davis asked.
“It’s not my cat,” I protested, stooping to scoop the animal into my arms. As soon as I returned to an upright position, the creature settled and gazed adoringly at me.
Turning to the officer, Hazel offered, “Tori is a total nurturer. She’s so good with animals and people. They draw to her like magnets to a refrigerator. Especially children. She’d make a wonderful mother.”
“Come on, Hazel,” I interrupted before she could finish peddling me to the town’s newest bachelor. As if being compared to a refrigerator was a positive thing. “Let’s go so Officer Sterling can do his job.”
“Fine,” my friend dragged the word out for several syllables. Over her shoulder, she grinned at Davis. “I can tell you more about Tori later. I’m sure you have a lot in common!”
After Davis finished a cursory look around the attic, the four of us moved to the front sitting room, each of the officers claimed an armchair facing the sofa where Hazel and I sat. The cat wandered out of the room as soon as I put it on the floor.
Over the next hour, we went through every detail of what happened. We started from the time we arrived at the mansion until the police knocked on the door. As we talked, I tried--and failed--to put the creature out of my mind.
Chapter 7
In addition to their initial questions, the officers also had a load of questions about how we came to get the job and details about any earlier meetings with Mrs. Livingston. Although Gavin used a small handheld recorder to take our statements, Officer Sterling used a notebook and pen to jot notes.
Surrounding areas like Glendale or Misty Harbor had their fair share of crime, enough that the local book club compared it to something out of an Angela Lansbury novel. The skeleton in the attic was the most horrible incident to happen in Cooper's Cove for as long as I could remember, and I'd lived here for almost three decades.
Other members of the police force, the coroner, and a pair of forensics experts arrived, and the interrogation began a second time. A higher-ranking officer took notes regarding everything Hazel and I said, repeated it back to us, and then read it over again, this time with Gavin and Officer Sterling present.
The coroner stuck his head in the doorway and nodded a greeting at Hazel and me. I gave a little wave, but Hazel beamed a smile and asked him about his wife’s general wellbeing. After a couple of minutes of conversing with Hazel, the coroner excused himself and beckoned to Gavin. The two stepped into the entryway, where they spoke in hushed tones. A pair of attendants who had arrived with the coroner now returned, but this time they carried a body bag strapped to a backboard.
"Is that her?" I blurted and at once felt stupid for it. Who else would it be?
"Yes, it is the victim," Officer Sterling confirmed, his mouth drawing a grim line.
"What happens next?"
Rubbing his chin with one hand, Gavin warned, "Well, it goes without saying that the mansion is off-limits pending our investigation. Once we leave, neither of you is to come back inside here until you get the okay from me. You didn't leave anything upstairs, did you?"
I shook my head, the word upstairs sparking a memory. "Wait, I forgot to mention that her bedroom was a mess."
"And? She has a messy bedroom. Do you remember what a wreck my sister's bedroom was during our entire lives? It probably doesn't mean anything." Gavin glared at me.
"It seemed out of place with the rest of the house."
"Is your bedroom on the same level of tidiness as the rest of your house, Queen Victoria?" Gavin leaned toward me, and his eyebrows wiggled like a perverted caterpillar. "Would you like me to come over and inspect it for comparison?"
Saving me from having to answer, Hazel smacked her brother's bicep again. "How long until we have to leave the house, Gavin?"
"I said for you to stop hitting me. The fact that you're my sister doesn't mean you're exempt from breaking the law."
"I'm so scared." Hazel stared at her brother and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Whatever. You're leaving the house when we do, which is right now. Anyone who is not a member of the forensics team, the coroner's staff, or the police force has no reason to be here. If they are, then I will charge them with trespassing. Have I made myself clear?"
I looked at Hazel, but she stared back at her brother with a steely gaze before uttering a single word. "Fine."
Although I'd seen Hazel use this response to cause other grown men to tremble in their shoes, if it had any effect on Gavin, then he refused to show it. Then again, he'd had a lifetime of being glared at by his sister. I followed Hazel to the front porch while Officer Sterling brought up the rear.
"Wait! We can't leave her cat behind." I ducked back inside before Gavin could reprimand me for it and called, "Here kitty. Kitty-kitty-kitty. Where are you, sweetheart?"
I followed the winding hallway, calling until I heard a soft meow in the opposite direction of the attic stairs. Here goes nothing, I thought, turning a corner into the kitchen. The bottle from the attic sat on the counter next to the cat.
The cat looked from the bottle to me and gave a pointed, "Meow!"
"Would you like to come home with me?" I asked the cat.
The cat headbutted the bottle, and the glass container hit the counter with a clinking sound and rolled toward the edge. The cat meowed again, staring at the bottle, which was now in danger of falling onto the slate tile floor. Without pausing to debate with myself, I reached out and swiftly caught the bottle, my fingers wrapping around its bulbous body for a second time in as many days.
Hearing Gavin's huffing and puffing growing closer, I hurried to pocket the bottle and scooped my new furry friend in one arm. I stroked the side of his face with my free hand and murmured, "Come on, sweetheart. We can't leave you in this big house all alone. I'll take you home with me. Although without a job, I might be getting our food from the local charity kitchen. Hopefully, something else will come along soon." Feeling a little silly, pouring my troubles out to a cat, I stopped talking and rubbed the back of its neck. The cat purred louder in response. Despite how creeped out I was by the unexpected turn of events, the more time I spent with the cat, the calmer I felt.
Gavin appeared and bent at the waist to put his hands on his thighs, his breath coming out in gasps. "I told you, this house was off-limits," he paused every few words.
"I couldn't leave this poor cat all alone. Who would feed it?"
Before
he could respond, the cat hissed in his direction and immediately nuzzled against me.
Gavin, still wheezing a little, puffed his cheeks and exhaled slowly, as if considering the poor kitty's options. "Fine, take the cat, but keep it with you in case it becomes evidence. The last thing I need is for you to get me in trouble because you decided you needed a cat to fill your empty life."
"What did you say?" As much as I hated to admit it, his words stung. There was no way I would give him the satisfaction of showing any emotion.
When he didn't respond, I kept my voice as flat as possible and replied, "Gavin, you're not only rude, but you're also unprofessional. It's a wonder they let you do anything more than read meters on Main Street. You're nothing more than a scourge, and you always have been. I've been polite to you because you're my best friend's brother. I don't have to take this kind of treatment from anyone, even from you."
Without waiting for his response, I pushed past him and retraced my steps to the front door, exiting the mansion for the second time that morning.
Chapter 8
Half a dozen new arrivals stood in the driveway with Hazel and Officer Sterling. My co-worker's eyes lit up when she saw me, and she beckoned me over.
"What's going on? Who are these people?" I kept my voice low.
"Everyone and their second cousin heard the call-out on the scanner at Mocha Joe's. They've come out to gossip. Even Mrs. Benefield caught a ride over."
"Wow," I said and whistled through my teeth. Catching sight of my neighbor, I waved. She didn't see me, but Puff Daddy strained the end of his leash while yapping away at the cat in my arms.
"It's so wicked cool! I mean, not because of the body but because I've mentioned our company in a news interview. It's like free advertising!"
As my friend's words sank in, the ambulance pulled away to reveal a news van. I recognized the Glendale affiliate station logo as well as the attractive newswoman talking into a microphone.