by Diane Meier
As soon as Randolph was dead, the animal control officers asked Sasso what they should do. Sasso just told them to continue business as usual. He said that the mobsters involved would kill them if they didn’t cooperate. Sasso got a little greedy and made the mistake of asking for more money per animal from the contact person. That did not go over well. These people were not open to negotiations.
Now the Rehoboth cop had raised a stink about the sale of animals. Sasso was worried. The mob might actually kill him if he couldn’t provide bait dogs. They didn’t seem to like him much.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Matt knocked on Clara’s door. He was a foul mood from the day’s events, but the sight of Clara knocked all that out of his mind. He’d never seen her with her hair down and it was gorgeous. “You look terrific,” he said. He was so much feeling better. “Thank you,” she said a bit shyly. “I dressed up a bit. I don’t wear a dress very often these days.”
He looked at how the blue silk hung on her curves, and he wanted to say something, but the right words were just not there. You idiot, he thought. He was terrible at this kind of thing. “Clara, you should always wear dresses.” He knew that was lame, but it was the best he could do.
Clara laughed. “Not a very practical idea, but thank you.” As they drove to the restaurant, Matt held back on telling Clara about the day. No point in getting into all that tonight. She’d be as upset as he was, probably more so. He’d tell her another time.
There was no traffic on the way to Lewes, a colonial town that had been beautifully preserved. It had first been founded in the
No Kill Station
1600s by colonists who sailed from the Atlantic into the Delaware Bay. “I took Henry on a tour when we first got here. He was really interested in how the Lenape Tribe destroyed the first colony.”
“Have you taken Henry to the Nanticoke Indian Museum out on Route 24?”
“I hadn’t heard about it,” said Matt.
“It’s fascinating,” said Clara. “I think Henry would like it. The Nanticokes hold an annual powwow that I bet he would like, too.”
Matt was so happy that they could talk about Henry, since it was probably his favorite subject. “You’re right. He’d love that.”
“Maybe I could go with you and Henry to the museum sometime.”
Matt was delighted. “Absolutely, let’s do that soon.”
They easily found a parking place on 2nd Street, since it was not tourist season. In the restaurant they were seated right away, and their order was taken immediately.
“I’m starving,” Matt said. “Another day without lunch.”
“Is that because of the murder case?”
Matt cursed himself. He had meant to ask her about herself. And it wasn’t just because that would be more polite. He wanted to know her better. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up the job.”
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” replied Clara quickly. “I don’t mean to be digging for information. I’m sure you need to keep the details of the case confidential. If this is anything like the detective shows I watch.”
“Yes, that part of those shows is accurate,” he smiled. “However, my reason is more that I know how much you love animals. I don’t want to upset you,” Matt said.
“You don’t have to worry about that. I think I’ve heard everything awful about the SPCA from my mother.”
“I can see why Gary Randolph had angered a lot of people. Maybe somebody was even angry enough to kill him for his treatment of animals at the SPCA. There are so many terrible stories in the blog and Facebook pages that I’ve been reading.”
“I believe that the stories are true,” said Clara.
“Clara, I found out that your mother was the blogger. You never mentioned that.”
Clara was surprised. “I couldn’t tell you. I promised my mother. Randolph is so nasty. She didn’t want him to retaliate against me or the dogs. She was also worried that he might think that I’m writing the blog now.”
“I had asked the state troopers to find out the name of the blogger as part of our investigation. They tracked the domain name to your uncle and I spoke to him today.”
“I had no idea that somebody could do that. I’m surprised my mother was savvy enough about technology to have my uncle buy the domain name,” said Clara.
Matt couldn’t help asking Clara the next question. “And you’re not writing the blog?”
“No,” said Clara. “I’m not. I have too much of my own design work. I’m no writer. I could never do the blog justice.”
“But somebody is still writing it. Do you know who?”
“No, I don’t actually,” said Clara, looking out the window.
Matt could tell that she was lying. She was a lousy liar. “She must have handed off the blog to one of her friends.” He wasn’t going to confront Clara about the lie. The tech guys would be able to track who was writing the blog after Aidan got a warrant.
“I guess so,” said Clara. “How’s my uncle? I should call him. It’s been too long. He’s just so concerned about me grieving over my mother. Sometimes it’s hard talking to him because we both end up crying.”
“That’s rough,” said Matt. He had been broken up about his parents’ deaths so he could understand how Clara felt. “Henry and I miss your mother. She was a good-hearted person. We liked how she fed the feral cats. And she sure was right about the SPCA. Maybe I shouldn’t get into this but I was furious enough about the SPCA to kill somebody today.”
“Why? What happened?”
Matt told her about the horrible treatment of the dogs at the kennel. He described how he insisted that the dogs get vet care and how he had forced the kennel owner to clean up and feed the dogs.
“Oh Matt, I’m so glad to hear that you made the guy take better care of the dogs. My mom will love hearing that. I mean she would love to hear it if she were still alive.” Clara realized that she had screwed up by using the present tense when she talked about her mother. Matt would think she was crazy if she ever told him about her mother being a ghost.
“If that wasn’t bad enough, I also found out from the animal control officers that the SPCA was selling dogs to dog fighters.”
Clara gasped at that. “What the hell? Selling animals as bait? Never in my worst nightmares would I have thought that could happen. My mother said something about her suspicions because of how the statistics were so screwed up. I thought she was just imagining it. How could they do that?”
“I don’t know,” said Matt shaking his head.
“Is anybody going to stop this?”
“The Mayor called the Governor to ask that he take action. Hopefully that will make a difference.”
“Thank God you found out. And I’m so glad that you went into that kennel and helped those dogs. I’m so pissed off. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Clara, I felt that same anger. I have never wanted to hit someone so badly in my life. But what good would it do?”
“You did the right thing in raising hell. Any decent person would have done it.”
“The politicians didn’t agree,” said Matt.
“What do you mean?”
Diane Meier “The Mayor got complaints from the Kent County Council about me taking direct action to fix things instead of going through proper channels.”
“That’s insane. Dogs were suffering. There’s no time for bureaucratic bullshit in that situation.” Clara was furious.
“They didn’t see it see it that way. The Mayor suspended me for a week. He seemed to be sorry about it but just didn’t feel like he had a choice. And he pulled me off the murder investigation.”
“That’s so unfair. I’m going to call up the Mayor and tell him that.”
“No, no, please don’t do that,” laughed Matt. “That would make things worse. The Mayor would blame me for causing problems for him.”
Clara paused, realizing that Matt was right. “Still, it’s terrible. Not fai
r at all.”
“It’s okay, Clara. I’m looking forward to a week off anyway from the SPCA mess. We can go to the Nanticoke museum.”
Clara smiled. “You’re a good person.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
They looked at each other in the candlelight for a few minutes. Then the waiter arrived with the food, and the moment was broken. They both knew that something had just happened between them. Something that took their relationship to another level.
Matt raised his glass of wine. “To better days.”
“Yes, to better days,” said Clara.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A fter dinner they walked down the street looking in shop windows. As they approached Saint Peter’s Episcopal Church a woman hurried around the corner from the side street and almost ran into them.
“Matt, it’s good to see you,” said Janice. “I was going to call you tomorrow and ask how the investigation is going.” She looked curiously at Clara. She couldn’t help examining people. That was part of being a reporter.
“Hi, Janice.” Matt sighed to himself. He supposed he would have to introduce them. “This is Clara Butler.”
“Nice to meet you,” Janice said. “I’m a reporter with the Beach Herald.”
“That must be interesting,” said Clara, although she didn’t really think that. Working for a small town paper must be incredibly boring.
Janice smiled. “It’s certainly interesting when there’s been a murder in town. Matt, you promised to talk with me about it. Can you spare some time for me tomorrow?”
“Sure, Janice. But you know there’s not much I can tell you at this point. We’re just following some leads and haven’t found a suspect.”
“I just want to talk to you off the record. You said we could do that. And I’m going to hold you to it.” Janice paused. “Wasn’t your mother on the SPCA Board at one point, Clara?”
Clara nodded. She certainly wasn’t going to start talking about her mother with Janice.
“We need to get going. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Janice knew they were trying to get rid of her. “Great. Nice meeting you, Clara.”
Clara smiled at her. They walked away quickly as if they had to get somewhere. When they got down to the park where the farm market was held on weekends, they sat on a bench. Matt took her hand and they sat quietly for a while.
“Have you ever seen the labyrinth in the churchyard?” asked Clara
“No, where is it?”
“I’ll show you.”
They strolled back to the colonial church. The white wooden steeple was lighted so that it stood out in the night sky.
“Such a beautiful building,” said Clara. “Have you ever looked at the graves? Let’s walk through the graveyard to get to the labyrinth.”
Matt looked surprised. “I guess I avoid graveyards.”
“Why? Do you think they’re haunted?” asked Clara in a teasing tone.
Matt answered seriously. “I’ve been to a couple police funerals and seen widows crying their guts out at the graves. I just don’t know how it helped them to see the coffins right there at the graves. It made me feel worse.”
Clara wondered if Matt had envisioned Henry dealing with that. “That must be heartbreaking. It’s so tragic when police are killed in the line of duty.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag the conversation into tragedy again. I seem to be doing that too much tonight.”
“Matt, please, no worries,” said Clara. “Come on. Think of the graves as a bit of history. These graves go back to the 1700s.”
They walked the path and read the tombstone inscriptions. Some were so old that the names and dates were barely legible. They came to a stone that said “In memory of Elizabeth H. Cullen, born February 30th,1760 and departed this life September 30th,1830 A.D. Aged 78 years & 7 months. She stretched out her hands to the poor, Yea, she reached forth her hands to the needy. Prov. 31st Chap. & Vers.”
“She certainly lived to a ripe old age.” said Clara. “It’s a beautiful epitaph.”
Matt nodded. “I’m struck by how many infants’ grave are here. So many children died back in those days. I can’t imagine how parents survive the death of a child. I was always terrified that Andrea would hurt Henry when she was loaded. She thought she knew how much alcohol she could handle but of course she didn’t. I was so worried that she’d drive with Henry when she was drunk. She did a couple of times and got caught. When she was arrested and lost her license I was relieved.”
Clara took his hand. “It must have been horrible for both you and Henry.”
“I’ve never told anyone all that. I don’t understand addiction. I know it’s a disease but I always felt like she should know better. It seemed like it should be a matter of willpower and if she tried she could get over it. I guess she did try but it didn’t seem like it to me. She constantly lied to me and I believed her too many times. I was the classic enabler.”
“You don’t have to tell me about it,” said Clara.
“It’s kind of a relief. My parents are gone. It wasn’t something I wanted to share with friends. But enough of that. What’s with this spiral of stones?”
“That’s the church’s version of a labyrinth. See the sign. ‘A path of peace open to all.’ It’s supposed to be a way to meditate and relieve anxiety. You walk along the path to the center. I always walk it when I come to Lewes. I’m not sure it gives me any peace but I feel like I’m making an effort at least.”
“What do you feel anxious about? Sorry, that may be too personal. I don’t mean to pry.”
Clara looked up at Matt with a quiet smile. “No, I want to tell you. I worried a lot about my mother when she was sick. It was hard when she died but it was actually a relief. She was in such terrible pain. I don’t have brothers or sisters and my father died a long time ago. I have my uncle and one aunt but I just don’t like her. She came to the funeral. You met her.”
“Oh, right, I remember,” said Matt. “She seemed very upset.”
Clara laughed bitterly. “That irritated me. If she cared so much, I had to wonder where had she been for the past year.”
“Yeah, I can understand why you’d feel that way.”
“She didn’t like that my mother was cremated. She didn’t like the obituary. She just complained about everything and then didn’t bother to stay for the wake. She said she had to get to Dulles Airport for a flight. It was upsetting.”
“She shouldn’t have complained like that. It was your call,” said Matt. “I felt so badly for you when your mother died. I didn’t get a chance to know her very well when she was healthy but she had so much courage. I hope I’m that brave when my time comes.”
“She liked you, Matt. And she loved Henry. I could tell that when you both visited to say hello, her spirits lifted. I was very grateful to you for that.”
“You lifted my spirits tonight.” Matt lifted up Clara’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
Clara leaned towards him and kissed him. He hadn’t dared to hope she might care about him the way he did about her. He pulled her closer and they clung to each other for a few minutes. Then they stepped apart and Matt took both her hands.
Clara smiled at him. “Let’s walk the labyrinth. I’ve never walked it with anyone before.”
They walked quietly around the concentric circles. The night was crisp and the stars were brilliant. At the center Matt kissed her.
They cut through the labyrinth circles and left the church yard. Holding hands, they walked back to the car. When they got back to the house Matt kissed her at the door.
Clara hesitated. “I’d invite you in, but the dogs would be jumping around and want to sit in between us.”
Matt nodded. It was too much to hope for anything else tonight. He gave her another kiss. “I had such a great time.”
“No, I didn’t mean that you have to leave,” Clara said. She felt stupid. But why should she hide how s
he felt? “Can we go to your place for a drink?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Y
ou’ll have to excuse the mess,” Matt said as they walked into his apartment. “I wasn’t expecting anybody. Actually, it’s always kind of a mess these days. I could blame that on the murder investigation but it would be untrue.”
“I’m not a clean freak, Matt. Don’t think my place is always neat and tidy. I always know when you’re dropping by so I pick up a little.” Clara sat down on the sofa.
Matt sat next to her. “Oh, I should have offered you a drink.” “No, I’m good.”
They sat quietly for a while“ Okay, put your feet right here,”
Matt said pointing to his lap.
“My feet?”
“Yup, right here.” Matt patted his lap.
Clara slipped off her shoes and stuck her feet in his lap. Matt
started to massage them.
“Oh, you know the way to a woman’s heart,” Clara sighed, lean
ing back.
“Is it okay to tell you that I have a thing for feet?”
Clara looked at him. “What? Seriously?”
“No, I’m kidding. I like all parts of you, toes to head.” “Such a sweet talker. My head is spinning.” Clara laughed,
pulling her feet off his lap and kissing him.
“I’m just getting started. How about this? You have beautiful
skin.” Matt ran a finger along her cheek. “I like what’s inside your
skin, too.”
Clara’s beautiful face lit up the room. Matt kissed her. Their
feelings for each other ignited and caught hold of them like wildfire in a drought. They made love with a ferocity that burned away
all dryness inside Matt as if it was deadwood. Afterwards Matt held
Clara in wonder. He felt truly alive again.
The next morning, Matt woke before Clara. He slipped out
the front door. It was a bright November day. In the meadow
behind the house he gathered some of the last wild flowers of the
season. One of the cats watched him carefully. “Yes, Edgar,” Matt