Aunt Zoe didn’t argue. She just buzzed off to put street clothes on and then quickly returned to the kitchen to fetch Gracie. I made things simple for her. The dog’s leash was already attached to her collar. “Thanks, Mary. You better take something for that headache of yours.”
“Sorry I’m so cranky, Auntie, but I’ve already downed several aspirin.”
“The crankiness doesn’t bother me, but I sure hope the aspirin will kick in within the hour.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is there someplace we need to be?”
She tightened her grip on Gracie’s leash. “Not me. Just you.”
“Where?”
“The Singis’s optical store.”
I threw my hands on my grungy hair. “Oh, crumb! How could I have forgotten?”
My roommate’s plump face instantly lit up, a sure sign she was enjoying my misery. “My dear, drinking too much causes many a memory lapse.”
Chapter 28
So, you see, Mary,” Kamini said, “this job is not hard. I think a couple more visits with me before you take over will do the trick.”
I shook my head to clear it. Wrong move. My noggin still throbbed terribly. How long is this dumb headache going to last? It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever mixed drinks. When I go to a house party, I’m always sampling a little of this and a little of that. Maybe Aunt Zoe was right, and someone spiked my drink. But why? It’s such a stupid adolescent prank, something I could picture Rod doing, but surely not Clint. I quickly reminded myself where I was now and continued with my meeting. “I don’t know, Kamini. It’s more duties than I envisioned.”
The very pregnant woman patted my hand. “A teacher has many duties, yes?”
“Of course. Some days more than others.”
“All right then. Don’t worry. You’ll do splendidly.” She dropped her hand.
Either the woman had a lot of confidence in me, or she was really desperate. I couldn’t decide which, but I was leaning towards the latter. “So, basically my responsibilities are receptionist in nature, nothing more, right?”
“Exactly. Greeting people and such. Of course, you’ll be expected to help customers if my husband is occupied.”
“In what way?”
“Reattaching a bow to a frame and selecting frames.”
“Screwing a bow back on sounds easy enough, but, without any expertise, helping someone select glasses could be quite challenging.”
Kamini suddenly winced and her hands immediately shot to her wide tummy. “What do you mean?”
I gave the pregnant woman a concerned look. When no explanation came forth concerning her behavior, I figured her baby was just making adjustments, and I quickly released a reply. “Well, I only started wearing glasses two years ago.”
“That may be, but the choice you made frames your face beautifully.”
Before I could explain that a friend helped me in the decision-making process, my cell phone interrupted us. I jerked it out of my pants pocket now and glanced at the number. Reed. What could he want? Worried that my client might have another crisis on his hands, I said, “Excuse me, Kamini. I need to take this call.”
The young woman waved her hand at me like she was loosening dirt from the floor. “Go. Go. We can talk more another day.”
I left her behind and strolled out to the street to answer my phone. “Hi, Reed. How’s your foot?” I was referring to his right one which I had happened to step on while line dancing.”
Reed chuckled lightly, something I wouldn’t expect if he was upset. “Just fine, Mary. Whoever came up with steel-toed shoes was a genius.”
“I bet the inventor came up with the idea after his toes had been stepped on too many times by klutzy dancers like me.”
“Now come on, cut yourself some slack, Little Lady. According to Zoe, last night was the first time you’ve ever line danced.”
“Yup.”
“Well, that takes guts. Not everyone is willing to try new things.” If he only knew.
“So, how are things going at your place? Have they settled down yet?”
He blew into the phone. “Everyone’s on edge. Trying not to talk about Sally’s death is impossible.”
“Who seems to be taking it the hardest?” I asked.
“Terry. He hasn’t been worth a plug nickel since it happened. I suggested he take a day or two off. But all he did was counter back with, ‘How’s all the work going to get done?’ So, yesterday I called Jackson, the guy you filled in for, to see if he felt up to coming back to work yet. Said he could give me a couple hours this morning and see how it goes.”
My headache had finally begun to subside to where I could actually think more rationally. “Is anyone else going to be around this afternoon besides you, Reed?
“Nope. Don’t have anyone scheduled. Why? You got something in particular tumbling around in that head of yours?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do, and Terry’s absence makes it a whole lot easier.”
“Well, then hightail it over here. Unless someone shows up unexpectedly, it should be as quiet as a gentle rain.” Then he took a break. Probably gathering his thoughts. The man uses such delightful words. I can see why Aunt Zoe’s so crazy about him. “Say, Mary.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you ask Zoe to join us.”
I should’ve seen that coming. Darn. Now, I’ll have to make sure my aunt’s paws are kept clear of me while I tend to the investigation. Of course, Reed could help with that.
*****
Not too many people knew this, but I was a CSI junkie and proud of it. I was hooked the minute the first crime scene investigation show hit the airwaves, and like the average Joe, I’d swallowed every scrap of information shared with the boob tube audience since then. I loved seeing the investigative team poking in this crevice and that with their tiny flashlights, looking for God knows what; tearing cars apart bit by bit for some elusive evidence; hitting the streets, guns in hand, flashing badges as they go from house to house.
Guess what? Most of what television CSIs do didn’t fit the bill. Real life crime scene investigators go out to the crime scene, collect evidence and then scurry back to the lab to analyze what’s been found. Period. End of story. But of course, I didn’t learn that till I spoke to Matt later down the road after this case was history. So naturally when I arrived at the Bar X, gullible me expected to see the place surrounded by yellow tape and teeny colored flags jabbed, here and there, across the landscape. Instead, I discovered Reed’s property had been barely impacted by the Woodbury police department’s visit.
It wasn’t until I stepped into the barn that I actually saw evidence the police had come and gone. The warning tape was minimal, only blocking the area enveloping two stalls on the left at the back of the barn. One stall belonged to Sally’s horse Cinnamon, the other to Reed’s Angel.
The owner of the Bar X guided Aunt Zoe and me forward. “I hope you can figure out something soon, Mary, I don’t know how much longer I can keep Cinnamon and Angel out of their stalls.”
I glanced at the section he was referring to. “I understand. So, where are they being kept in the meantime?”
“The big shed behind the stable where the hay’s stored.”
Aunt Zoe jumped in with a question now. “Any idea what’s going to happen to Sally’s horse, Reed?”
“Haven’t heard from the family yet.”
“Are you aware that her mother’s seriously ill?” I inquired.
Reed glanced down at his scuffed boots. “Terry mentioned something in passing.”
“Dying of cancer.” Aunt Zoe tossed out morbidly.
“Hmm. Maybe I should drive out to her house.”
I tore away the tape strung across Cinnamon’s stall, swung open the gate and cautiously
tiptoed in, being careful not to destroy what previously occurred before today. “Well, if you decide to go, I’d like to tag along. I think it would help to know what was going on in Sally’s life the past couple of weeks.”
Aunt Zoe scrambled up closer to the crime scene now. “Mary, aren’t you going to tell Reed what you noticed on Sally?”
“Noticed on Sally when?” Reed asked.
“In the pictures I took.”
“Oh?”
“It wasn’t much,” I shared, “Just scratches on her hand. Could be from anything.”
Reed put his hand to his forehead and then bowed his head. “Or it could be from the killer.”
Aunt Zoe stumbled backwards. “Oh, my. You mean I took something worth noting? Mary, what if the killer finds out and comes after us?”
I let loose with great charismatic charm even though I was shaking in my boots when I thought about a killer watching our every move. “Zoe, a person never puts the cart before the horse until you have to. You know that. Now, if you two don’t mind,” I said as I turned my back on them, “I’d like to get on with it.”
“Of course,” my client replied solemnly.
“Reed, why don’t we go back to the house,” my aunt suggested nervously. “Mary will let us know if she finds anything. Besides I’m dying to taste the freshly baked French Apple pie we picked up at Ralph’s Market on the way out here.”
“Just apple pie? How about if I throw in a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a cup of strong coffee to go with it?”
“Great suggestion. That’s the only way to enjoy a pie as far as I’m concerned.”
Enough already. Get lost, you two. I need a clear mind. I can’t think when I’m hungry.
Reed cut into my thoughts now. “Mary, how do you feel about us leaving you out here by yourself for a while?”
I waved them off. “Go on. Enjoy your pie. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Just dig away,” my client said as he escorted Aunt Zoe towards the exit, “We’ll be up at the house if you need us.”
Digging away? Now why didn’t I think of that? I peeked in my small plastic bag of tricks I had brought with me this morning. Not much. A camera, a flashlight and a magnifying glass. Not exactly digging tools. I should’ve brought a garden spade or at least rubber gloves. Mrs. Grimshaw was the only one thinking when I shared my plan. She offered an old measuring scoop once used in her kitchen. Dumb me. I said, “No, thanks.”
The lovebirds’ chatter soon diminished and was quickly followed by a loud clunk. Good. They were finally gone. I made my way to the storage closet where I remembered the plastic forked shovel was kept. It’ll pick up more sawdust then a can or a scoop, but I was also aware I might miss something because of that fact.
Chapter 29
Remember how desperate I’d been for work? Well, forget that. Looking for the tiniest bit of evidence on an extremely hot July day in two stalls filled with sawdust and pee and poop that hadn’t been touched since being roped off a couple days ago wasn’t even close to what I was willing to do for a job nor was putting up with the barn’s bug spray mister blasting away. But wait, the most disgusting fact wasn’t even mentioned yet. Angel and Cinnamon, the mares whose stalls I was sifting through, don’t neatly deposit waste in the corners of their twelve-by-twelve-foot enclosed areas like geldings but dropped it wherever they darn well pleased.
I scanned the ceiling and floor surrounding me, and then I took a good look down the length of the barn. Shoot. There was nowhere for this coward to seek asylum. You’re going to have to do the decent thing, Mary, whether you want to or not. Bite that bullet. I quickly whipped Aunt Zoe’s mighty blood-red bandanna out from my back pocket, spread it across my face bandit-style and tightly secured it to the back of my head. Once again a bandanna rescues a fair damsel in distress. And if it didn’t, well I’d suffocate, and the stench wouldn’t matter anymore. I inhaled slowly. Darn. Disappointment was my buddy today. The mask was doing its job. I guess I’d better get motivated and do mine. Now, if only I had a pair of gloves.
When I stepped back into Cinnamon’s stall to begin the tedious task of scooping up small layers of sawdust, I soon learned a forked shovel could only do so much. The hands would have to do the rest.
What a mess I had to play with. Too bad it wasn’t like sitting in a sandbox making mud pies with preschoolers. My body would have appreciated it. Instead, I had to keep shifting between Indian-style sitting and marionette movements. I finally determined neither was that comfortable, but the half bent over position from the waist sure stretched muscles I had forgotten existed. You only forgot about them because you stopped exercising a couple months ago, Mary. Yeah. Yeah.
Aunt Zoe and Reed finally returned to the barn after approximately half an hour. I was still filtering through Cinnamon’s stall, with a quarter left to do. “How’s it going, Mary?” Reed asked with genuine concern.
“Very slowly, I’m afraid.”
“Sorry about the smell. I know it’s strong, but I can’t throw lime down until you’re done.”
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” I fibbed as I faced them.
My client shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing a city slicker say that. Are you sure your nasal passages are working up to snuff, Mary? Maybe you need to have them checked.”
Aunt Zoe slickly interrupted. “I see you borrowed one of my bandannas after all. It looks very stylish looped around your neck.”
My lips curled up as I touched the bandanna. “Thanks.” Skip the WD-40, folks. A noisy door is worth its weight in gold.
Reed’s eyes drifted to what I had been sifting through. “Time consuming, isn’t it?
I nodded.
“Perhaps you’d like some help when you’re ready to work in Angel’s stall.”
“Actually, I think it’s better if just one person goes through the sawdust. We’d just be bumping into each other.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind just let me know.”
“Don’t worry; I will.”
“Meow. Meow.”
“Oh, Reed, look,” Aunt Zoe said as she rushed to the barn door, “Mommy cat wants to get out. Is it okay to let her out?”
“Why don’t you wait for me, Zoe. Then we can check on the kittens and see how they’re doing too.”
“The kittens, of course. That’s why Mini’s in here.”
Reed caught up to my roommate now. “I rather doubt that. She only came in here to hunt for mice.”
“Mice!” my aunt bellowed before she bolted for the door.
Reed swiftly followed in her footsteps.
And peace reigns yet again. Amen. A longer break from Aunt Zoe was just what I needed even if it meant the unbearable smells burnt holes through my nostrils.
I was still staring at the door my aunt had just charged out through when I heard a soft mewing sound rising up from the floor. I cast my eyes to the ground and discovered one of Mini’s babies near my feet. “Well, meow to you too.” I squatted to be closer to the cuddly creature’s level. “What are you up to, Kitty? Don’t you know you’re too young to chase after mice yet?”
“Meow.”
“Oh, you’re a cute one,” I said as I ran my hand across its soft charcoal-and-white back, “but I can’t give you attention right now. I’ve got more important things to do. Besides, you need to get back to your mother. Your eyes are still closed.” I stood now.
“Meow. Meow.”
The kitten’s beautiful short-haired fur sucked me in. “Okay, okay. You can stay until I’m finished with Cinnamon’s stall, and then it’s off you go.” I pulled the bandanna around my face again and then went back to the section of stall that still needed to be worked on.
Mini’s baby started meowing again.
I tried to ignore it, but that was im
possible. “Kitty,” I said as I lifted another forkful of sawdust, “you’re darn lucky the horse who resides here is spending a couple days elsewhere. This usually isn’t a safe haven for small animals.” Whoa. Hold on, Mary. I think you might be on to something. “The stalls aren’t safe for tiny animals.” What if the scratch on Sally’s hand was made by a cat? Could it lead me to her killer?
While I remained glued to my spot tossing thoughts around in my head concerning Sally and her killer, the kitten quietly squirmed on the ground. “Hey, who said you could mess with the sawdust? I was hired to do that.” I bent down now to stop the pesky animal from making more work for me, but before I managed to give him a light swat on his butt, a shiny object caught my attention. “Well. Well. What did you bring to the surface, you little rascal? It’s certainly not a mouse.”
I moved to the left of the ball of energy, so I could pick up the object it had uncovered. The tiny square piece of metal looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Maybe it had broken off a bridle. It was definitely sharp. I slipped it into my back pocket being careful not to shred my jeans, and then I promptly marched out the door to find Reed and ask him what he wanted to do about the kitten. I had never owned one and didn’t know if it was still too soon to touch it.
Chapter 30
Just as we were finishing up with Reed outside the stable, Nat Newman paraded up the steep hill puffing on a cigarette. Why was she here? I wondered. Earlier my client had mentioned it was too hot today for anyone to ride his or her horse.
I let the owner of Bar X greet her first. “Hi, Nat. Just out driving around?”
She smiled and waved. “Something like that.”
Aunt Zoe and I acknowledged her with nods.
“Nat,” Reed said, “have you met these two ladies? They were at our last evening get-together out here.”
“No,” she replied as she tossed her finished cigarette on a bare spot and ground it out with her heel, “I didn’t stay that long.”
I took on the introductions now giving out as little information as I felt was necessary. “I’m Mary, and she’s Zoe.”
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