As she pondered the issue, the decision was wrenched from her hands. Margot’s feet thumped against something, and she went down hard. In the seconds before she was prostrate, she had thoughts of eating dirt and grass. Not to mention the particular fear Odds accused her of harboring.
Instead of hard-packed dirt or slightly softer grass, Margot landed on something lumpier. Her fingers curled into material that felt like a jacket, and her blood ran cold. “Not again,” she squeaked, but it was true. She had found another dead body. Of all the bad luck. Why hadn’t she listened to Odds?
* * * *
“Get those dogs out of my crime scene!”
The familiar voice brought a smile to Margot’s lips, even if she was to blame for Peter’s current ire. She started to her feet, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her where she was, and he dropped onto the bench beside her.
“Margot, I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”
“I did, and that was ages ago.”
“Less than a month, as I recall.”
She shrugged, not having an excuse.
He frowned as his officers chased after the dogs. “Are you serious? Is this your first day!”
Margot winced and clutched her hands together in her lap. “I’m sorry, Peter. It’s my fault. The dogs got away from me.”
He gaped at her. “This is your doing, Margot? You set those dogs loose?”
“Not intentionally.” She tried to smile, hoping he would forgive her. Even at sixty-six and way over her prime, she had liked Peter from the first day she met the detective. He had a nice face, one a mother could love. And a single woman, she supposed with the slightly crooked but very white smile.
“Margot?” Peter snapped his fingers to catch her attention. “Were you injured?”
“Well, I have this ache here…oh, not especially,” she finished, seeing his expression. “It’s Odds’ fault. If he hadn’t come along and disturbed the dogs, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I mean, there would still be the dead body.”
Peter patted her hand and stood. “I’ll take care of it.”
At mention of Odds, the scamp raised his head and peered at Margot, silent and innocent. She was not fooled and refused to speak to him until her ire had cooled. A whistle rang out, startling her, and she realized it had come from Peter. The dogs hurtled toward him, making Margot nervous about being attacked.
“Sit,” Peter ordered in a stern tone, and to Margot’s wonderment, even Frankie obeyed. Peter gathered the leashes. “Where are the owners?”
“Oh they’re with me,” she said, wishing she could pretend ignorance. “This was my latest job. I don’t suppose I’ll be getting paid for at least one of them. Frankie didn’t do his business.”
“Trust me,” an officer groaned as he scraped his foot in the grass, “he did.”
“Well that’s wonderful,” Margot chirped happily while Peter chuckled and the officer glared. Now that the dogs were gathered, she felt more settled to ask about the dead man. “Was it a heart attack, Peter?”
“Afraid not. He was shot, and his wallet is missing, so I’m thinking robbery gone wrong. We’ll know more later, as usual. Do you need help getting those dogs home?”
Margot stood, trying not to show how much she ached all over. A bath soak might help and hot tea. “No, dear. I’ll be just fine. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
Peter appeared doubtful, but Margot kept a straight back and a false pep in her stride all the way to the edge of the park and on around the corner. Then she sagged against a wall to catch her breath.
“You know,” Odds began.
“Not now, Odds. I have to get home. You be quiet until we get there. There’s a good boy.”
Chapter Four
Margot had to admit she enjoyed the fuss made over her. There she sat on her couch, her feet put up by Kenny, the teenager from downstairs, and coffee and a treat in hand from her friend Nancy. Even Jimmy, the ornery boyfriend of one of the tenants had stopped by to see what all the hullabaloo was about.
Margot had started to miss her old life so much when she arrived home after dropping off each of the dogs that she had been near tears.
“Our lives are so exciting,” Nancy raved, although she had had nothing to do with the body discovery. “Just when we thought things had settled down. More coffee, dear?”
Margot extended her cup. “Thank you, Nancy. I admit it frightened me. I didn’t know what to do, and Odds was no help as usual. He provoked the dogs.”
“I was trying to lead you away from the body.”
She glared at him, sitting on the back of the couch, swinging his tail negligently.
“Is he saying something to you, Margot?” Nancy leaned closer as if she might pick up Odds’ voice better that way.
“N-no, of course not. I just don’t want him to scratch the couch.”
“So was there blood or what?” Jimmy demanded.
“Jimmy!” Kenny bumped Jimmy’s arm. He was such a good boy, probably much more responsible than kids normally his age were because of having to take care of his little sister so often. “Ms. Margot doesn’t want to think about it, do you, Ms. Margot?”
She smiled. “I’m much better now, thank you, Kenny.”
“Was it murder?” Jimmy apparently wouldn’t be shushed until Margot gave him what info she had.
“Yes, it was murder. Peter said the man was shot.”
“Peter.” Nancy clapped her hands. “If he’s on the case, everything will be wrapped up quickly.”
“I agree,” Margot said.
Jimmy rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t that great on the last case. Seems like you solved it more than he did, Margot.”
She beamed and touched her hair. “I did help a little.”
Nancy patted her arm. “You saved us all, dear. I daresay we would have been all murdered in our beds before long.”
“Well?” This was Jimmy.
Margot sighed. “Peter thinks it was a robbery, some thief passing by, and the man killed might have fought to hold onto his wallet.”
“Oh my.” Nancy laid a hand on her ample bosom. “Well, I’m glad it was over by the time you came along. That park doesn’t seem safe. I wonder if you shouldn’t just not do that job anymore, Margot. You can stay home with me, and we’ll chat, and I can teach you to cook like you wanted.”
Margot’s spirits sank. “It’s not that simple, Nancy, but I will make time for cooking soon.”
“Good. You do that because it will make you feel so much better. Nothing gets me through the day like creating a new dish and sharing it with my friends.” Nancy stood from the chair she had drawn close to the couch and clapped her hands. “Okay, everyone, we better let Margot rest. If anyone wants pie, I’ve got apple and peach!”
Margot kept her lips together, and Nancy winked at her.
“I’ll bring yours later with dinner.”
“Nancy, no.”
“Yes, I insist.” She waved and herded everyone out of the apartment. When the door shut, Margot leaned on the pillows that had been propped behind her back. The apartment was too silent with everyone gone.
Movement to her left caught her attention, and she looked to find Odds headed to the window. “What’s out there, Odds?”
He didn’t answer. She pushed her feet over the side of the couch and fought to sit up. Her joints ached, and that darn hip throbbed. After struggling to her feet and walking over to join him, she sat down in the chair she kept there. The two of them spent time when she was not working or looking for work watching the street.
“Sometimes I think Lou’s car will turn that corner down that way.” She pointed. “He’ll drive up to the apartment and say he made a terrible mistake, and he bought the house back and that Judy is waiting for me.”
“What about him?”
“What do you mean?”
“The house and Judy. You loved them not him.”
She frowned. “Well, I can’t very well care about him after
what he did, can I? Even if he says sorry, I’ll accept it, but I won’t forgive him.”
Odds looked at her. She realized she sounded silly.
“Don’t listen to me, Odds. I’m just feeling old and lonely. I had a bad day that I thought would be great, but it didn’t turn out the way I expected.”
“You can call that noisy bunch back in here.”
“Do you have an ounce of sympathy for me?”
He turned his head to peer out the window, and she grabbed him and placed him in her lap. Tickling him behind the ears, she chuckled when he began to purr.
“Sometimes, I think I’m here for you and not the other way around.”
“I’m waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
He gave her a cute look, the one she pretended had no affect. “Just waiting.”
“I think I belong here, Odds. Even if I wish everything between Lou and I had been different. This is where I’m supposed to be for now. I have friends, and did you see? They took care of me, not because I paid them to, but because they’re friends. I have to do something for them soon.”
“You’re still the lady in the mansion.”
She frowned at him.
“You think you owe them. You don’t.”
“Hey!” She waggled a finger at him. “I won’t be cold to them.”
“Not that.” He yawned and jumped down from her lap. Halfway across the room, he stopped and looked around. “Nancy’s son doesn’t visit her. Ever. Her husband abandoned her.”
“How do you know that? She said—”
“She’s another old lady in a box, and you became her friend. You accepted her even with her light fingers. Is that worth a piece of pie to her? Or money? Or is it worth a lot more?”
Margot sat with her mouth hanging open as Odds disappeared into the bedroom. She never in a million years expected such wise words or so many words period to come from him. How did he know? Was it true she had brought happiness into Nancy’s life?
“If he’s not talking, and I’m the one thinking this, it’s pretty arrogant.” She tapped her lip. Wait, maybe Odds had a point. Perhaps she could help Nancy. “I can convince her to leave the building and come on a walk with me. Odds, what do you think? Nancy never steps outside. Wouldn’t it be great if she could breathe in the fresh air?”
She waited, but he didn’t appear or answer. Margot liked her idea and decided she would make it work. One way or another, she would get Nancy out of here. Then again, if she truly never left, how had she sold all of Margot’s items in a sidewalk sale? Well, that was for pondering another day.
“Odds, I think it’s time you had a bath.”
Chapter Five
“Lesson three hundred ninety-five,” Nancy said at random, “let full grown cats bathe themselves. Oh, Margot, dear, look at your arms.”
Margot grumbled. “I can put bandages on for myself, Nancy, and you’re catching the hair on my arms. It will hurt when it comes off.”
“Don’t be a baby, Margot. You have very fine hair. They’ll slide right off when the time comes.” To Margot’s horror, the woman tore open three more, to cover the raised, red slashes on her forearms.
“She’s saying you’re going bald.” Odds sauntered past, chin raised, in a snit because she had tried to put him in the bath. She didn’t know about caring for animals. Had she known a kitten needed to be placed in water early in life so he didn’t find it scary, she wouldn’t have tried to wash Odds, who was obviously grown. Now she knew from Nancy’s lecturing and Odds’ foul mood.
“You’re obsessed with bald,” she snapped back at him, and realized she really did sound like a child. “Heavens, that cat might be the death of me, Nancy.”
“I’m sure you’re mistaken, dear.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“It’s Peter.”
“Is it?” Margot sat forward and waved Nancy’s busy hands away.
“Is it what?”
“Peter.”
“How could you possibly know?”
The knock came again, and before Margot could rise, Nancy scurried over to the door. She opened it to Detective Louis Crandell, who Margot had dubbed Peter because she refused to utter the name Louis every time she saw him.
“Oh, so it is,” Nancy said, mouth agape and looking from Peter to Margot.
Margot looked at Odds and felt a twinge of excitement. This was the first time she couldn’t discount Odds speaking because she already had the information he shared. Peter hadn’t announced his arrival at all.
“Maybe you are psychic,” Nancy said in wonder.
“Ladies?” Peter held up his hands. “Am I allowed to join you, or is the voodoo private?”
Margot slapped her leg. “Oh, Peter, you’re silly. Come in.”
He walked in, and Odds scrambled over to him to be picked up. Peter obliged and stroked the naughty cat’s back. “I apologize for coming so late. What happened to your arms, Margot?”
She frowned and pointed. “The awful cat in your arms. Do you want a new pet?”
He smiled. “Sorry, I’m afraid my hours don’t allow for a pet.”
“But you had cat fur on your shirt the other day.”
Peter blushed, and Margot made room for him on the couch. He sat down on the edge, still holding Odds. “Afraid that was my sister’s cat. She has a brown and black one that just doesn’t have the same intelligence I see when I look into Odds’ eyes. I wonder why that is.”
Nancy spoke up. “That’s because Odds—”
“Nancy, I’m sure Peter has more important things to do than to hear your fanciful stories.”
Her friend’s cheeks puffed out, and she pouted. Both Margot and Peter chuckled. Margot turned to him. “So what does bring you, Peter? Is it the case? Did you learn the man had a secret rendezvous with a questionable character?”
“Now who’s being fanciful?” Nancy asked. “Peter, I’m sure you haven’t eaten dinner. Would you like me to fix you a plate? We can take this meeting down to my apartment, and I have more apple and peach pie.”
“Nancy, you’re interrupting again,” Margot complained. She had nothing but coffee to offer Peter, that and boxed macaroni. The last time she had gone to the dollar store, she had been too exuberant with her purchases. With Nancy feeding her so often and just being sick of the stuff, she had plenty left over. Peter probably wouldn’t want it, and she refused to offer.
Peter glanced at Margot, and she stood. “Yes, let’s go to Nancy’s. We can’t let you go home hungry, now can we, Peter?”
“What you need is a wife,” Nancy declared, pulling on Peter’s arm to get him to stand.
“Is she volunteering, because I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“Odds,” Margot whispered. “Peter’s well above legal age, although there’s the question of the creepy factor.”
“Uh, Margot?” Peter said as they headed toward the door. “What are you whispering?”
Margot put on her biggest smile. “I was just thinking through my grocery list out loud, dear. Don’t worry about me.”
Nancy bumped Peter’s side and winked, but he seemed confused by this action. They headed downstairs to Nancy’s, where she played queen bee, and Margot didn’t mind because she just wanted to relax. She kept questioning whether she wanted to call Frankie’s owner and the others to say she couldn’t come back. At least they hadn’t fired her when she returned the dogs in high spirits.
“I thought I’d stop by to tell you what we learned about the case, Margot,” Peter said and thanked Nancy for the plate she handed him. “Since you were the one to discover the body.”
“Wasn’t it a terrible thing for our poor Margot?” Nancy declared. “She’s had enough to deal with in the last month or so. One might almost think she was cursed.”
“Really, Nancy!” Margot pressed her lips together in firm displeasure. Her friend blushed and offered an apology.
“Yes, well, the victim,” Peter continued, probably havin
g come to the conclusion that both Nancy and Margot were shy a few marbles, “was Charles Olsen.”
“Charles Olsen,” Nancy exclaimed.
“Did you know him?” Peter set his plate aside and pulled out his small notebook.
Nancy touched a hand to her chest. “No, but the name, doesn’t it just sound like he was an important man? We’re probably all the poorer for his loss in the world.”
Peter’s color rose, and he snapped the notebook closed. “He was the owner of a small bakery on Nostrand called A Dirty Baker. Have you heard of that?”
“I can’t say I have,” Margot said.
“I bake all of my own desserts,” Nancy said with pride in her tone. “I wouldn’t need to go to a bakery, and the name sounds disgusting. Dirty?”
Peter grinned. “The place has had nothing but A ratings from the city health inspectors, and when I visited, it seemed pretty clean. Good bit of traffic.”
“Are you still treating this as a robbery?” Margot asked.
He nodded. “I’m going to do my due diligence, of course, but we’ve already got a suspect in custody and witnesses that put him near the scene. His rap sheet is miles long, and he’s been up for aggravated assault previously.”
“You work fast. I’m very impressed.” Margot shooed Odds away when he would have jumped back into Peter’s lap. “Let him finish his food, Odds.”
Peter shoveled Nancy’s baked chicken and mixed vegetables into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe he did need a wife, Margot thought. She wondered if she and Nancy could play matchmakers but then recalled she didn’t know any young women except for Zabrina and Debra. Debra was already married, and Zabrina had Jimmy, although she didn’t know why anyone would. She decided she would keep her dear Peter in mind should she meet someone appropriate for him in the future.
“Looks like it’s going to be pretty cut and dried,” Peter told them. “I like that. It means I can leave work a little earlier.”
“New York is a violent city,” Nancy agreed. “That’s why I don’t go out much.”
Odds Against (Margot and Odds Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 2