Johanna and Rocky went inside. Johanna stripped her winter attire off while Rocky trotted right inside to check his food bowl.
“Mitch and I ran some errands together.”
“Oooh, so now it’s Mitch and I,” teased Esmerelda from a sunny spot on the floor.
“No, not like that. I told him the truth!”
“About us?” asked Whitley, her eyes shining.
“No, I decided to withhold the magic stuff. Not everyone’s going to be as open-minded about it as I’ve been.”
“Puh, I wouldn’t exactly call you open-minded,” said Esmerelda with a laugh.
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call you a cat, so I guess there’s that,” snapped Johanna.
“Touché.” Esmerelda curled back up into a new ball and closed her eyes.
“So, what exactly did you tell him, then?” asked Whitley.
“I told him that I’d found the dress in a secondhand shop and that I followed the clues to him. I told him that was why I’d gone to see him the other day, but then when I realized who it was, I froze up and I couldn’t. He completely understood.”
“Oh, that’s so awesome!”
“Yeah, it is. We went and saw the realtor again. We talked to Tim Shaw and Janet Sandborn and found out that Janet knew about Felicia’s real estate showing that day. It was her client, but he asked for Felicia by name.”
Whitley’s eyes widened as she climbed onto the armchair next to Johanna and pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She looked up excitedly. “Oh my God, do you think that Janet killed Felicia for stealing her client?”
Johanna shrugged. She couldn’t help but consider that as a possibility. “I mean, she said she didn’t, but who’s gonna come right out and say, ‘Yeah, I did it’?”
“Exactly! Oooh, this is exciting! We’re finally getting somewhere!”
“Well, there’s actually more to the story.”
“More?”
“Rocky, can you tell Columbo and Sherlock Holmes in there to keep it down? I’m trying to sleep over here,” snapped Esmerelda.
“Woof!” he barked before running over to her and giving her a big, sloppy lick right across the entire side of her body. It had happened so quickly that she hadn’t even seen it coming.
Esmerelda’s eyes widened and her head lifted. “Oh, you didn’t!”
“Woof!”
“You’re gonna pay for that, you slobbering piece of—”
“Can you not right now, Es? I’m trying to hear what new information Hanna got today. Why don’t you go lay down in her bedroom?”
“Not on my bed, though. You look disgusting,” said Johanna with a half-smile.
“Oh, ha-ha, very funny,” snapped Esmerelda, getting to her feet. With one side of her fur plastered against her body and her green eyes narrowed, she strode towards Rocky the way lions hunt their prey.
Rocky slowly backed away, lowering his head and whining.
“Essy,” Johanna barked. “You leave him alone. He was just showing you how much he likes you. God knows why he likes you, but he does. You should feel honored, not angry.”
Esmerelda stopped walking and spun around. “Oh. Yeah. I feel honored to have my fur smelling like bacon bits and looking like wet cotton.”
Johanna shrugged. “What can I say? Rocky’s just a touchy-feely kind of guy.”
Whitley giggled. “And Esmerelda is more of the scratchy-bleedy type of girl. No wonder they don’t get along.”
Esmerelda stared her sister down and then strutted towards the bedroom. With her back paw, she slammed the door behind her and it hit the jamb with a thud.
“So tell me the rest,” begged Whitley.
Johanna strode into the kitchen, refilled Rocky’s food bowl, and then took a seat on the sofa in her living room.
“Okay. Where did I leave off?”
“Janet might have killed Felicia,” said Whitley, her smile way too broad for a statement such as that.
“Right. Well, Janet gave us the address of the house that Felicia was supposed to show that day.”
“She did? No way!”
“Yeah, and we also have the name of the person she was supposed to show it to and his number.”
Whitley’s jaw dropped.
“Yeah, so Mitch, Rocky, and I all walked back to Mitch’s office and called the guy.”
“The guy who had asked for the showing?”
“Yup.”
“Did he answer?”
“Yup.”
“This is amazing! He could be the murderer!”
“Yup. Of course he swears he didn’t do it. But again, who’s just going to come right out and be like, ‘Yeah, I killed her’?”
“This is crazy. So now what do we do?”
Johanna sighed. She wasn’t really sure what was next. Mitch had to get back to work because he had afternoon meetings, so she and Rocky had left, with Mitch making only a vague mention of getting together soon to discuss the case. And, of course, when he’d had to take a business call, she’d sort of snuck out because she’d felt silly standing around waiting for him to get off the phone, and it hadn’t occurred to her to leave her number behind.
“I’m not sure, but you know what makes the most sense to me?”
“That we go check out the house that Felicia was supposed to show the day she was murdered?” asked Whitley, her hands clasped together.
Johanna grinned. “You read my mind!”
“T hat’s the house,” said Johanna, pointing at the outside of a three-story brick townhouse on a narrow, tree-lined side-street in the West Village.
Whitley’s jaw dropped. “That house is worth twenty-five million dollars?!”
Johanna smiled and waved her forward, pulling her hat on tighter over her hair. “Welcome to New York City.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow is right.”
Whitley turned and looked back to where they had just come from. “So from here to the park where she was found was literally like just a few blocks away.”
“Yup. I think it’s pretty clear she was killed either right before the showing or right after it. We just need to figure that out next.”
“And how are we going to do that?” asked Whitley.
Suddenly, something caught Johanna’s eye. She looked at it curiously, tilting her head to the side. With her head cast upwards, she walked towards it.
“What are you looking at?” asked Whitley, following her.
Johanna pointed up to the top of the building. “Do you see that?”
Whitley’s eyes swung upwards, but she wrinkled her nose. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to be seeing.”
Johanna’s finger poked the air harder. “There. Up there. That video camera. I think that’s how we’re going to figure out if Felicia ever did the showing!”
“But who would we ask to let us see those tapes?” asked Whitley.
A smile spread across Johanna’s face. “Easy. I know a guy.”
T he sun had barely risen the next morning when Johanna and Rocky burst through her apartment’s front door.
Whitley shot off the couch. Empty Ben and Jerry’s containers and an open half-eaten bag of Lays potato chips cluttered the side table. “What? Who’s there?”
“Oh, sorry, it’s just me and Rocky. We’re back from our walk,” said Johanna, putting her Styrofoam coffee cup and cheese bagel breakfast sandwich down next to her laptop.
“Your walk? You got up and got dressed and went out for a walk already? The sun’s barely even up,” said Whitley, grinding her fists into her eyes. Her brown hair was wild around her face, her mouth was smudged with last night’s chocolate ice cream, and her sweatshirt was one from Johanna’s lounge drawer.
“I know, but I wanted to get back early. I have a very important phone call to make this morning.”
“Eee,” squealed Whitley, pulling her legs up underneath herself. “You’re going to try and get someone to help you get the surveillance camera
footage, aren’t you?”
Johanna pulled off her outerwear and went to the kitchen to fill up Rocky’s bowl. “Yes. It’s time to make a very important call.” She padded, stocking footed, towards the computer. Sitting down in her desk chair, she took a sip of coffee and pulled out her phone.
Whitley pulled a blanket around her shoulders and took a seat next to Johanna. “You gonna do it right now?”
Pulling on her glasses, Johanna flipped through the contacts on her phone. “I want to catch him before he gets to work,” she said as the phone began to ring.
“JoJo!” said the bouncy voice on the other end of the line. On speakerphone, the echoey sounds of wind whipping past the other end of the phone made the reception somewhat crackly.
“Hey, Kev,” said Johanna with a broad smile. “You’re not at work yet, are you?”
“Nope. On my way now. Did you change your mind about catching a ride with us to Uncle Jack’s Christmas party?”
Johanna groaned and fell back against her seat back. “Ugh. Is that this weekend?”
He chuckled. “Yes, JoJo, Christmas is this weekend. Had you forgotten?”
“Well, it wasn’t that I forgot per se. It was more that I lost track of my days. They come and go around here so fast, you know.”
“Funny how that happens.”
“Yeah, funny.”
“Have you changed your mind about wanting to ride with us?” asked her brother-in-law with a hint of optimism coloring his voice.
“No. I haven’t changed my mind. I’ll get a cab or something. Don’t worry about me.”
“Why would you get a cab? That’s just a waste of money, and I know how much you detest wasting money. You get that from your father.”
Johanna tipped her head to the side as she stared at her phone. She did hate wasting money, but she hated people bugging her about her social life even more. She’d catch a cab or take the train. Or she wouldn’t go. She was still debating her options. The latter option sounded better than the first, but of course she wouldn’t tell Kevin that, because he’d only squeal to her sister.
“I just don’t think there’s enough room in the van for all of us. You know, with Dad and Maureen going, you, Mook, the kids, the presents, the food.”
“Pretty sure we aren’t bringing any food, but alright, whatever. Get yourself there on your own. If Mel asks, I tried to convince you. Oh, hey, I bet I know the real reason you want to drive yourself.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you and Mitchell want some quality alone time together. Is that it?”
“Me and Mitchell…how do you know about Mitchell?”
“You drinking too much eggnog this early in the morning, JoJo? You told us about Mitchell at Denny’s the other night.”
“I—” Johanna’s jaw dropped. In the craziness that surrounded her sleuthing, it had completely slipped her mind that she’d told her family that she was dating Mitch. That was before she’d even met him. Well. That wasn’t true. She’d met him, but she hadn’t known it was Mitch. And how crazy. She’d actually named the guy Rocky had bowled over in the park correctly. How was that for fate or divine intervention? “Yeah. About that…”
Whitley knitted her brows together. Her eyes went from staring at the phone to Johanna.
“He’s going with you to Uncle Jack’s, JoJo. You can’t change your mind now. Melissa and I were over at Denny’s last night, and all he could talk about was how excited he was to meet your guy. We’re all excited. He can’t pull a no-show now. Denny would never let him live it down.”
“And Mook would never let me live it down either, I suppose,” sighed Johanna, more to herself than to Kevin.
“Exactly. So he’s going, right?”
“Hey, listen, Kev. That wasn’t why I called.”
“Oh yeah? Why’d you call?”
“I need a favor.”
“Oh, here it is. What?”
“What do you mean, oh, here it is?”
“Nothing. I’m just waiting for it.”
“Waiting for what?”
“You need me to come snake your drain again, don’t you? I told you to quit giving Rocky baths in your tub.”
Her mouth hung open. “I have nowhere else to bathe him! You won’t let me do it at your house.”
“I’m pretty sure the city has places you can take your dog to give him a bath, JoJo. Either that or you need to put something in the drain to keep the hair from going down.”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll look for something to order online. But that wasn’t why I called either. I need an IT favor.”
“Oooh,” he cooed. She could almost hear him rubbing his hands together on the other end of the phone. “Now you’re speaking my language, sister. Spill.”
“I need to get some surveillance video footage of a townhouse from six years ago.”
“Six years ago!” he bellowed into the phone. “JoJo, most places only keep video of the last week. To some places thirty days is a long time.”
“So it’s not possible?” asked Johanna, disappointed.
“Well, I didn’t say that. I do happen to be a miracle worker.”
“No kidding. You made an honest woman of my sister,” said Johanna with a chuckle.
“Oh man, I’m telling Mel you said that,” he laughed back.
“Yeah. You better not if you want me to come to Christmas this weekend.”
“Okay, okay, fine. Yeah, text me the address and the dates and times and what exactly I’m looking for, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. No promises. What’s it for?”
“Oh. It’s a cold case I’ve been working on. I might use the facts of the case for a new mystery novel.”
“Oooh. If I find what you’re looking for, do I get credit in the book?”
“If you get me the goods, I’ll totally give you credit in the book.”
“My name in black and white, huh? Might be worth it.”
“Then don’t disappoint me, Kev. I really need this footage.”
“Yeah, back at you. Don’t disappoint your sister, Denny, and the kids. Lex and Henry are expecting Auntie JoJo and Rocky to make an appearance with their new uncle Mitch.”
“Oh my God, Kev. If you call him that, I’m not bringing him!”
She could hear him chuckling on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, alright. We’ll save that for another time. Don’t let us down, JoJo. The family is counting on you to be our Christmas miracle this year.”
Johanna laughed. “It’s going to take a Christmas miracle for me to bring Mitch to the party. Listen, Kev. I gotta go. Don’t take too long on that surveillance video, ’kay?”
“Yeah, text it over. I have some time this morning that I can give you.”
“Thanks, Kev, you’re the best big brother I ever had!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Later, JoJo.”
“Later, Kev.”
22
J ohanna glanced up at the sky. “Not a single flake in sight, Rocky. No wonder I almost forgot Christmas was this weekend. How can it be Christmas without any snow?”
Rocky tugged Johanna forward along the path. We don’t have time to stare at the sky, JoJo. My squirrels are in the park. Let’s go, were his likely thoughts.
“Oh, fine,” she agreed with a laugh. It had been a productive couple of days for Johanna, and she was in a good mood. For the first time in almost a week, she’d spent almost two full days behind her computer and put words on the screen. Putting words on the screen always made Johanna feel better and more in charge of her world. It was like it was the one place in her life that she wasn’t a klutz, wasn’t a social outcast, wasn’t a thirty-five-year-old unmarried spinster. She was just a narrator who got to tell a story.
As the narrator, she got to tell whatever story she wanted. So what if the hero in her book had suddenly become a rugged-looking blond man in his late thirties? She’d changed his name from Benjamin to Miles, to
o. Miles sounded better—and was a better fit for the character anyway. She had nothing to prove to anyone. Did it matter that her heroine had gone from a blonde woman in her twenties to a thirty-two-year-old brunette? No, it didn’t. Because her screen wasn’t allowed to judge or make unnecessary hypotheses. It was only there to record her narration. Why the gritty mystery she’d been writing suddenly had romantic undertones and witty banter as the hero and heroine worked to solve the case together was of no importance to anyone else. It was simply the story in her head, and as the narrator, that was her prerogative alone. That was the way it went.
So when she and Rocky entered the park that evening, even though there was no snow on the ground or falling from the sky, the night felt that much more magical to Johanna. It was as if she’d gotten to live a couple vicarious romantic days with her hero, and it made her glow from within. So much so that she felt herself skipping down the path in the park without so much as a care that she’d never been very good at skipping and, if left to skip for very long, would most likely wind up tripping over her own feet and landing facedown on the path.
“Skipping!” said a voice from a bench on the side of the trail. “Isn’t that a little dangerous with your proclivity for clumsiness?”
Johanna’s feet ground to a halt as both she and Rocky saw Mitch sitting quietly on the bench cloaked beneath long shadows. She’d never seen Mitch this far into the park. Usually she and Rocky were nearing their way out of the park when they’d see him on his way home from work.
“Mitch!” she exclaimed.
Rocky let out several excited barks and bounced over to the man who had fed him blueberry bacon dog treats only a few days before.
“Hey, buddy.” Mitch let Rocky jump up and give him a hug while he tousled his ears.
Johanna’s heart felt like it might burst as she watched her beloved dog engaging so lovingly with Mitch Connelly.
Mitch looked up at Johanna. “Hey,” he said with a crooked smile. “You left me in the lurch the other day!”
“Did I?”
He nodded. “Yes, you did. I had no way of contacting you. You didn’t leave me your number or your address. I tried calling your agent, but she wasn’t giving out either.”
Snow Cold Case: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 1) Page 17