Doggone Dead

by Teresa Trent

  “Excuse me, could I get you to move over there? I need to get a shot of this hair on the ground.”

  “Oh,” my father said. “Betsy, this is Elena Morris. She is our newest officer and will be acting as our crime scene photographer today.”

  “Didn’t know Pecan Bayou had room for one on the payroll.”

  “We don’t, but she is Judge Patterson’s stepdaughter, and somehow the finance part worked itself out.”

  “Okay.” I nodded my head. “I’m Betsy, Judd’s daughter. Nice to meet you.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, still focusing on the something on the ground. She brought a flashlight out of her bag and focused it on the minuscule element. It was a hair. Once it was properly lighted, I could now see it even on the dark surface.

  “Wow, you’re pretty good at this.”

  “I should be, I did it in El Paso for three years. I got my share of crime scenes on the border.”

  “I’ll bet.” I moved out of the way. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a functional ponytail. Everything about Elena radiated a no-nonsense approach to life.

  As I stepped back, I noticed what looked like a short pedestal of some sort behind an overgrown bush. On the ridge around the top where a plant would have stood was an unmistakable bloodstain.

  “Dad, maybe you ought to see this.”

  He came over, and upon seeing the pedestal, pulled me toward the fence. “Time for you to go, and thank you for finding what might have been the murder weapon. If you keep pointing stuff out, though, we’ll have to put you on the payroll. We’re going to be here for at least another hour. I think we have all we need for now. I’ll give you a call when I come up with more questions.”

  “Great. I’m ready to get all this blood washed off.”

  Aunt Maggie had been joined at the gate by various neighbors peeking in around her. Donald Simmons, the now-retired owner of Simmons Hardware, stood with his fingers in his belt loop. He shook his head up and down as if he expected all of this to happen.

  Maggie leaned across the opening in the gate. “George, I think you need to hear what Mr. Simmons here has to say.”

  George came over, flipping open his notebook like he’d been practicing this move at the station. Mr. Simmons peered into the notebook, his round glasses magnifying his eyes to a bug-like appearance. “I heard a scream last night, probably around 10 or 10:30. I live in that house over there.” He pointed to a two-story frame house to the left of Loper’s courtyard. His upstairs windows had a direct view of Libby Loper’s house and yard. “When I looked out, it was kind of blurry, but I think it was some cowboy.”

  “We are in Texas, sir. We do have that type running around.”

  “Not that kind of cowboy, an old-timey one. Like Roy Rogers or something.”

  “How could you tell? It was dark out,” I asked.

  “He had on a vest that had some of them sparkly rhinestones on it. It reflected off the streetlight when I looked out, then he just vanished out of sight. Darnedest thing I ever saw.”

  Maggie jumped in. “I’ll need to call Howard, the head of the paranormal society. It sounds like the ghost of Charlie Loper, back to avenge his daughter.”

  The old man looked at her and pushed up his black-rimmed glasses. “Holy cow, I never would have thought of that. By gosh, you might be right!” He slapped his knee, then his tone took on reverence. “Charlie Loper rides again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Aunt Maggie offered to pick up Zach when she got Danny from his job at Dr. Springer’s vet clinic. In the meantime, I brought Butch home and hosed him down and then washed him with doggie shampoo using my rubber gloves. I was surprised the Pecan Bayou Police didn’t ask to keep him for evidence. Glad to be home, Butch ran all over the house rediscovering his turf. Zach would be so excited to see him.

  Knowing I still had an hour and had not turned in my pictures to the Gazette, I put the SD card from my camera into my computer. I could email the pictures I had taken of the Bonnet Farm and type up the watermelon recipes. I didn’t think Rocky would like my clumsy Little Miss Watermelon shot. My photography skills weren't all that great, and many of the pictures I sweated out in the heat to get would end up victims of the delete key. Nevertheless, I did what he asked me to do. My assignment was the recipes and the pageant, and Ruby Green was going to try to put something in her gardening blog about raising watermelons. It was amazing she even had time between all of the conditioning treatments she was having to do to combat the frizz caused by the heat and humidity. I wondered if she knew anything about Libby Loper. If there was any news to be had, she would be the one to have it. Some of her sources were better than the microfiche in the history section of the public library. People would get all relaxed sitting in that chair having their head massaged with sweet-smelling soap, and it seemed to loosen their tongues. Secrets would start leaking out in a room full of nosy women. Big mistake.

  I included recipes for berry watermelon smoothies and watermelon lemonade and emailed it all off to Rocky. I picked up the phone and called the Hair House.

  “Miss Ruby? What do you know about Libby Loper?”

  “Now that takes me back.” She snapped her gum on the other end of the line. “Libby Loper,” she said slowly. “Poor little rich girl. Libby Loper.”

  “Really, that’s how you remember her? What do you know about her?”

  “Haven’t seen her in years.” She went on as if I hadn’t interrupted her. “She used to get her hair cut and curled about once every two weeks when she was in town. She was married three, maybe four times, but that never seemed to work out for her. They were all in it for the money. Her daddy left her a big wad of good ol’ cowboy cash. I guess his movies and trinkets brought in quite a bit too, especially after they did a remake a few years ago. People wanted that original Charlie Loper stuff. Real retro, you know.”

  “So you hadn’t seen her in years?”

  “No, can’t say that I have. Hold on a minute, honey.” I could hear the “ssst” of the aerosol spray can as it coated yet another big Texas hairdo in a blanket of hairspray. Miss Ruby then told her victim to pay Gigi up at the counter and have a real nice day.

  “Okay, darlin’, I’m back. So why are you asking about Libby Loper? Did she die or something?”

  “Um, no. Well, almost, I guess. I’m not sure just how much I should be talking about at this point.” I heard Miss Ruby suck in air on the other end. Her overexposure to aerosol had done nothing to her nose for news.

  “You can tell me, darlin’. We’re like family, you know.”

  “I know. Miss Ruby, when Miss Loper came into the Hair House, did you notice if maybe she was ... taking drugs or drinking?”

  “You mean was she high?” Ruby laughed. “Only on herself, dearie. She would give me this bull about how they did her hair when she was in Hollywood. She had the same hairdresser as Katherine Hepburn and oh, what a wonderful job she did, a real professional. Made me feel like the lowest wart on a toad, it did.”

  “So she didn’t seem inebriated or anything.”

  “She was as sober as the preacher on Sunday morning.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “But wait, honey ...” I hung up the phone before Miss Ruby could pry the untapped gossip out of me. My dad really needed her for the interrogation room at the Pecan Bayou Police Department. “Anybody home?” I heard my back door open and shut and the sounds of my son, cousin and aunt all entering.

  “I’m in here,” I said. Butch barked and scurried across the tile floor in the kitchen, miscalculating where to stop and nearly hitting a wall on the way. As I rounded the corner, Zach screamed in excitement and picked up the slightly damp ball of fur.

  “Butch! You came home!” He hugged the little dog so tightly I worried he would break its little bones.

  “Um, Zach, if a dog’s eyes start to bulge, don’t you think you might be hugging him just a little too tight?”

  He jumped and then softened his grip. “Oh, Butch,
I missed you so much, boy.” He looked up at me. “Did he find his way home on his own, or did someone see a poster and bring him to us?” He nestled his nose in Butch’s fur. “Oooh, he smells so good!”

  I thought about how I should explain this one. Should I tell him I found his little puppy scampering around in the blood of one dead British butler or maybe just tell him about how we’re glad he’s home? Before I could come up with an answer, Danny blurted it out.

  “Somebody went to heaven.”

  “What do you mean?” Zach asked.

  Aunt Maggie put her arm around Zach’s shoulders. “Don’t you listen to Danny. You have your Butch back, so all’s well that ends well.”

  “But Mama, you told me Butch was there when Mr. Gray’s son went to heaven,” Danny repeated.

  Anxious to get my son off the morbid topic of how many bodies his mother had discovered over the last few years, I went for an easy switch.

  “So Danny, how was your day at the vet clinic?”

  Danny stopped pulling at his mother’s sleeve and smiled his lopsided smile. He pushed up his glasses. “Oh, Allison is wonderful. She works very hard.”

  “Does she?”

  “Yes, we have to mop the floor and then vacuum it too. She does the mop, and I do the vacuuming. We’re a good team, she said. I love her.”

  “Danny,” my aunt cautioned, “love is a pretty strong word. Maybe you just like working with her?”

  “No, Mama, I love her. We’re going to get married.”

  Aunt Maggie sighed and patted his hand. “What about your other girlfriend? The one from your school?”

  “I can’t marry both of them, silly.” Danny looked at her in shock.

  “I didn’t say that you would, but don’t you think it will hurt her feelings to know that you are saying you love Allison?”

  Danny looked down at his Converse high-tops and crossed his arms at his chest. “I love Allison.” That was the end of this discussion as far as he was concerned.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Zach and I took Butch over to Dr. Springer’s office to make sure he was okay after his days of captivity. Dr. Springer checked him out from head to wiggly tail.

  “Now where did you say this dog had been?” Dr. Springer asked as she felt Butch’s stomach.

  “He was kidnapped,” Zach said, not sparing the element of excitement.

  “He’s a cute little dog. I’m surprised you got him back.”

  “Mom had to climb over a dead body to get him, but that’s never stopped her before.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Okay, that cat was out of the bag. Why did I think of animal metaphors in a vet’s office? Curious. “It’s a long story.”

  “You’re my only appointment for the next hour. I have time,” Dr. Springer said as she examined Butch’s paws.

  “We found him over at Libby Loper’s house.” I explained about his crawling under the fence and the eventual finding of the dog next to the dead butler.

  “That’s quite a tragedy. I’m surprised I haven’t seen it in the Pecan Bayou Gazette.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be there. Rocky at the paper has demanded I stop by after this appointment so he can get an eyewitness interview.”

  “So you actually found the body of Mr. Grayson. That had to be scary.”

  “What was really scary was Libby Loper hanging out of the upstairs window. I thought she was going to fall out and kill herself.”

  “You could have caught her, Mom,” Zach said as if I had superhero strength.

  “Not likely,” I answered.

  “So how’s she doing now?”

  “She was released from the hospital and seems to be coming out of a very long drug-induced fog. I really feel sorry for her. I’m not sure, but I think Hunter Grayson might have been stealing from her. The house was crammed with boxes.”

  “He was drugging her and then spending her money?”

  “Something like that.”

  “That’s awful, poor woman.”

  “When I ran to get her out of the window, she was on something. You know, I have no idea what she’s really like when she’s not under the influence, but one thing’s for sure – she loved this puppy. I felt bad for having to take him back. With all that was going on I almost wished I could let her keep him.”

  “Mom!” Zach said.

  “I didn’t for one minute not plan on returning him to you, Zach, but I think Butch liked her, too. He came to her faster than to me.”

  “He spent more time with her.” Dr. Springer ruffled the fur on Butch’s head. “You’d only had the puppy for a day. He might have been the first real friend to come her way in a long while. Do you think she’s seeing visitors? I might stop by and tell her how Butch is doing. There are many wonderful dogs up for adoption at the Rescue Me Animal Shelter. Maybe I could take her down there and help her find another little dog.”

  “That would be really nice.”

  “Yeah, as long as it’s not Butch,” Zach added.

  “Do you know much about Libby Loper?” I asked.

  “Not really. Only what I’ve seen from walking through the museum down the street,” the vet replied.

  “Say, would you mind keeping Butch for a few minutes while Zach and I head over to the museum? I think it might help us both in understanding the situation.”

  “Not a problem. He can visit with Miss Ivy, my bulldog in the back.”

  We strolled down to the house that had been converted into the Charlie Loper Dead Eye Museum. The structure was a small white house with a short front porch and a black metal Texas historical plaque out front. The door squeaked as we entered, and the smell of musty carpet hit my nose. The inside of the home had been gutted to provide for the many exhibits of movie posters that hung on the wall. In the corner, a life-sized statue of Charlie Loper stood looking at us. The skin of the mannequin was unnaturally pale, and his Stetson was tilted just slightly to the side of his vanilla face. He wore a white shirt with blue stars and rhinestone-filled fringe. Around his neck he sported a red bandanna.

  “Cool,” Zach said.

  The mannequin was holding on to the reins of a full-sized tan horse, whose eyes also seemed to follow us. It was saddled up with Charlie Loper’s black floral parade saddle with glittering diamond and half-diamond shapes embedded throughout. For a cowboy, the guy was all about bling.

  “Can I help you?” A woman came out from the back room wearing blue jeans, a red western shirt and white nametag that said “Lavonne.” Her long grey hair was in a braid that ran down her back.

  “Um, we were just down at Dr. Springer’s office and stopped in to take a look around.”

  The woman smiled warmly. “Well, that’s mighty kind of you. I’m so sorry you’ve come at a bad time.”

  “A bad time?”

  “Yes, we’ve had the most terrible tragedy during the night.” She gestured over to a glass case in the opposite corner. Inside the case there was a raised platform covered in black velvet.

  “You see, that is where I kept Charlie’s guns. Someone broke in and took them during the night. It’s the most amazing thing. All of the artifacts are precious, but the diamond saddle is worth tens of thousands of dollars.”

  “Really?” Zach asked, running over to the case. Having seen his grandfather working a crime scene, he quickly took on his persona, with one hand on his hip and the other stroking his small chin.

  “Hmm ... from what I can see, there was no forced entry. The glass has not been shattered.”

  “That’s true,” the woman said. “The glass dome over the pistols comes right off. We try to dust around here at least once a day. They still glistened after all these years. Charlie had them specially made.”

  “So whoever took the pistols just had to lift the dome and take them,” I said. “Have you called the police?”

  “Oh yes, and the insurance company. It’s all so sad. We only have a few things left of Charlie’s, and now two more are miss
ing.”

  “Have you called his daughter, Libby?”

  “Libby? I haven’t spoken to her in years, but not for lack of trying. She doesn’t choose to associate with our little museum. I’m just glad that British fella didn’t come over here and see all that we have.”

  “Why would you feel that way?”

  “Oh, just call it instinct, I guess. Once he found out the diamonds on the diamond saddle weren’t gemstones, he lost interest. Even with that being said, the way he died was just terrible.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s part of the reason we’re here. It’s a very long story, but I ended up finding Mr. Grayson.”

  “Oh, my. That must have been awful for you, dear.”

  “Yes, it was pretty bad. You might have better luck trying to talk to Libby Loper now. I guess you could say she was being overmedicated.”

  “Oh, and that foul man was taking advantage of her! No wonder Charlie’s ghost has returned. He never could tolerate a villain.”

  Zach turned around, “Charlie Loper’s back? I thought he was dead.”

  “He has only left us in body, dear. His spirit will always be with us.”

  “What Lavonne means is Charlie Loper’s memory will always be with us,” I said. Lavonne winked and nodded her head in agreement.

  “How did they get in?”

  “Well, we’re not totally sure about that. Chief Wilson was over here, and he thinks they might have jimmied the lock?” She said it as if she wasn’t sure if she was repeating it right.

  I went over to the door and opened it. I hadn’t noticed before that there were deep scratches on the doorknob, and the keyhole looked uneven at the top.

  “They think someone might have used a screwdriver to break the pins in the lock,” Lavonne added. “I have a locksmith coming to replace it later today.”

  I closed the door and walked over to the pistol case. There were no fingerprints on the glass whatsoever.

  “It looks so clean. Did the police dust for prints?”