“Well, I won’t keep you,” he added, and Annie could hear him shuffling in his seat. “I just wanted to ask about the dog while it was on my mind. Of course, it could be absolutely unimportant, but you know what they say--sometimes the things that seem unimportant are actually crucial to solving a crime.”
Annie had no idea who ‘they’ were, but Emmett’s logic sounded solid. “Wait, Emmett. I do know something about a dog. Might not be the same one, but like you said, little things, right?”
She told him about the puppy that Rory and Devon found. “Did you take him up to see Dr. Fisher yet?” he asked. “Might have one of those microchips in it.”
“Not yet, but we’re going first thing in the morning,” she replied. “We can swing by the police station if you want to see the dog.”
“Alright, I guess we could take a fur sample,” he chuckled, “maybe run the dog’s pawprints to see if he’s been in any trouble with the law.”
Annie groaned. “I’ll call you if I see anything unusual,” she replied, ignoring his joke.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Emmett added. “We’re not yet sure if Ross was alone when he arrived at your place. It looks like he was working with someone, but he uses codenames in his notes. Once we get into that laptop we might be able to get more information. We’re working on getting his cell phone records, too. He could have been working with someone right up until he was killed, and if so, that person is definitely a suspect, and likely to be a dangerous one.”
Annie frowned. “If he brought someone with him, where did they go? It’s not a short walk to get anywhere from my place,” she asked.
“Might not have brought them,” he replied. “His accomplice could have already been there, waiting for him.” His statement made Annie’s spine tingle with cold. It was bad enough that one of her guests could have murdered Lou, but the possibility that one of them waited patiently for him to arrive, mingled amiably with Annie and her other guests, and then killed the man in cold blood, was more than she could stomach.
“Emmett, you come on by anytime you want to talk to my guests. I’ll let you know if I see anything out of the ordinary.”
“Thanks, Annie. And I guess it goes without saying, but be careful. If there’s a murderer staying at your bed-and-breakfast, they’re hanging around for a reason. If we can figure out what that reason is, we might be able to catch them before anyone else gets hurt.”
Annie felt a chill despite the August heat as she ended the call with Emmett. She considered each of her guests, trying to decide if any one of them seemed more suspicious to her than the others. Frank’s unusual behavior at dinner gnawed at her, but before that he’d seemed so friendly and relaxed. And Emmett seemed to think that Kizzy could still be a suspect. Did the bubbly blonde even have it in her to kill someone?
Annie’s head spun with questions. She didn’t want to think that a killer was sleeping peacefully under her roof. She sighed. She’d always wanted to run a bed-and-breakfast. Her dream of taking care of others in her own home had finally come true. She just never dreamed that taking care of them would mean keeping them safe from cold-blooded killers, especially when the killer was likely to be one of them.
Annie’s heart nearly leapt from her chest when a bony finger tapped her on her left shoulder. She spun around to find Marie peering at her intently. Annie had no idea how long the woman had been standing there, but it made her feel extremely uncomfortable to think that she may have overheard Annie’s conversation with Emmett.
“Mrs. Richards,” Marie began, twisting a strand of beads that circled her neck. “I just wanted to tell you again how lovely I think your home is. As an inn, well, it’s quite cozy, but I can’t help but wish you’d heed my earlier warnings about the spirits here. I have seen things,” she confessed, peering into Annie’s eyes cryptically, “that would make your hair stand on end. I understand if you don’t believe me yet,” she sniffed, “but just don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Marie’s words hung in the air between them for a long moment. Annie didn’t want to offend the woman--she clearly believed every word of her own speech--but Annie had never been superstitious and had no plans to get spooked now.
“I appreciate your concern, Miss Robichaud, but really, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about spirits right now. At the moment, our main concern should be helping the police figure out what happened to Mr. Ross. I don’t even know if he had any relatives who might be missing him, and that worries me just a little more than the possibility of his restless spirit hanging around.”
Marie nodded slowly. “Mr. Reynolds says that the man was a criminal. Perhaps he left no one who mourns him,” she suggested. “All the same, it’s not uncommon for those who die suddenly to have some sort of unfinished business, something that they need to see taken care of, even after they are dead.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just never know,” Annie replied, shaking her head. “It’s not like he left behind a lot of information about himself.” She tried to understand why Marie was so fixated with the idea of Lou’s spirit hanging around. “What is it that you do again, Miss Robichaud? You’re a medium, right?”
Marie smiled. “Yes, that’s right. I have a deep connection to the spirit world and I can often sense things that others can’t. It’s a gift and a curse, I can assure you. But I can tell you that not all spirits go easily into the afterlife. I’ve seen very bad things happen when spirits are angry about their deaths, and I just thought I should warn you so you’d know what to look out for.”
Annie was sceptical, but she didn’t want to offend Marie. Perhaps the woman was telling the truth, or at least her version of it, but Annie didn’t want to start looking for answers in the supernatural realm. “And what is it that I should know?”
“I’ve seen angry spirits burn entire buildings to the ground,” Marie replied, “I’ve seen people become suddenly, inexplicably ill in the presence of a vengeful spirit, and I’ve seen what some would call accidents, but what I would call the act of a soul who is not yet ready to be departed from this world,” she finished gravely. “Don’t discount the possibilities, Annie. Never underestimate the power of the supernatural.” Annie must have looked unconvinced, because Marie continued. “Do you believe in life after death? That those who have died can communicate with the living?”
Annie thought about this for a long moment. It would be nice to believe that death wasn’t the end of things, and it was a pleasant thought that her father’s spirit might be watching over her even in the form of a solemn little redbird. She thought about the diary of Rose Cooper, how it and a letter from Rose’s brother had spoken to her hundreds of years after their deaths. It wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was the type of afterlife communication that Annie felt most comfortable believing.
“I’m not sure what I think,” she replied finally. “But I am certain that we shouldn’t be worrying everyone or causing hysterics by suggesting that there’s an evil spirit running amok on this plantation.” Annie sighed. “Miss Robichaud, I do appreciate your concern, but for now, I’m going to focus on assisting the police with their investigation. Have you had dessert yet? My mother’s blackberry pie is practically blue ribbon,” she finished, changing the subject.
Marie opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it again, silenced for the moment by the approach of Frank. “Mrs. Richards! Mrs. Richards, could I speak to you for a minute?”
Annie turned to see Frank marching across her lawn towards the veranda. He was slightly out of breath from the walk, and she could see that he was sweating profusely. He definitely wasn’t used to country living, as her mother would say.
Annie left Marie on the veranda and met the man halfway. “Oh, boy! I don’t think I’ve walked this much in years,” he confessed, catching his breath. “Just went up to the barn,” he explained, “talked to Rory and your boy. That’s a good looking little dog they found,” he added, nodding his head for emphasis. “I asked Rory
about the fishing in these parts,” he continued. “He said I might be able to get a fishing pole and a temporary fishing license in town, is that right?”
Annie nodded. “Actually, I probably have a pole you can borrow out in the shed. And you don’t need a fishing license to fish in my pond since it’s on private property.”
“You mean there are fish in the pond?” Frank looked a little sceptical. “I didn’t see any when I looked down by the deck there.”
“Oh, yes, there are a ton of fish in there. It’s a fully stocked pond and I’ve caught many fish myself in there,” she added. “But you really don’t want to fish by the deck. All the big fish are around on the other side of the pond. You have to go around and through the woods to get to my favorite spot. Or, you could take our little boat. It’s just a two-seater, but it’s perfect for rowing out and drowning a few worms,” she added, happy for an explanation about what the man had been doing down on the deck earlier.
“Do you think I could borrow that fishing rod tomorrow? I’d love to do a bit of fishing, and I’m afraid that Doris is going to have me looking at houses soon if I don’t find some ways to keep out of her hair,” he laughed.
Annie felt in her pocket for her keys. “Here, let me go check the shed and make sure those fishing rods are in there. If they are, I can have Rory show you the spot where we like to fish and you can head up there first thing in the morning, before it gets too hot.”
She led the man over to the small, prefabricated shed behind the barn. She unlocked the door, stowing the lock in her back pocket while she dug through gardening tools and an assortment of outdoor clutter that had accumulated over the summer. A bag of charcoal and a container of lighter fluid sat in one corner of the shed, reminding her that she really ought to fire up the grill at least once while her guests were at the house. Summer wouldn’t last forever, so she might as well make the most of her grill.
“Ah, here they are,” she said, at last, pulling a bucket of fishing rods out of a far corner. Frank’s eyes lit up at the bundle of rods and reels.
“You must really love your fishing,” he commented. “There must be a dozen fishing rods in there.”
Annie laughed. “No, only about nine or ten. Some of these were my father’s,” she explained. “And a couple are my mom’s and Devon’s. This one,” she said, pulling a teal-colored rod from the bunch, “is mine. I don’t use it often enough,” she lamented, “which is a shame because, well, I have all this in my backyard.” She selected a rod for Frank and handed it to him. It was burgundy and silver, well-worn and much-used. “That one was one of Dad’s. He would have loved this place,” she said, a sad smile on her lips.
“Your mother has mentioned him a few times,” Frank said. “He sounds like a great guy.”
“Oh, he was,” Annie assured him. “He was the best. He died a little over five years ago, but I swear, sometimes I feel like he’s still right here with me.” She pulled the bucket to the front of the shed and returned the two rods. “I’ll just leave these right here so we can get to them easily in the morning. That way, you can just grab one and go,” she smiled.
Annie noticed that Marie was watching them as she re-locked the shed. Frank noticed, too. “What do you make of that loon?” he asked, not bothering to hide his opinion of Marie. “I can’t stand all that ghosts and ghouls mumbo-jumbo. If you ask me, those so-called mediums are just as bad as the con artists that steal people’s money.”
Annie considered this for a minute. “I suppose some people are just looking for a little hope,” she replied finally. “They’re hoping for proof that there’s something after this life. I can see how it could be comforting for someone to tell you that your lost loved ones are safe and happy, waiting for you to come to them.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and those so-called psychics are full of hope that you’ll be foolish enough to hand over your wallet to them so your money can cross over to the other side, too,” he snorted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m willing to believe in ghosts and an afterlife. I just don’t believe anyone who tells me they’ve got a direct line to the other side.”
Marie waved to Annie, a vacant smile on her face. Annie waved back. “Let’s go inside and see if there’s any pie left. I’d hate for you to miss out on my mother’s dessert,” she said, ending the conversation. She started back up towards the house and Frank followed behind, much less agitated than he’d been when he’d stormed out of the dining room. Annie breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that she’d seen the last of the drama for the day, but something in her gut told her she needed to be ready for more, just in case.
11
Barking Up Trees
“You’re going to have to let that dog sleep in the house,” Rory advised Annie, “or nobody’s getting any sleep.”
She covered her ears, drowning out the high-pitched whine coming from the barn. “I doubt they can hear it in the house,” she replied. “Besides, he could always sleep with you in your camper,” she teased.
Rory grinned. “Oh, no, Annie Purdy, you are not pushing that trouble onto me.”
“Wait a minute, Rory Jenkins,” she countered, ignoring his familiar use of her maiden name. “You’re the one who brought the dog home. If anybody’s going to play mother dog, it should be you.”
“Actually, it was Devon’s idea, but since you’re such a mean mom and you won’t let the little fella out there sleep in the house, I guess you’re responsible for the crying.” He crossed his arms and waited for her reply.
Annie laughed. “You can’t antagonize me, Rory. Mean mom, my foot. I let you two keep it in the barn, didn’t I?”
Rory grinned. “You know I have to give you a hard time. Otherwise, I risk losing my cool dude status with the young people around here,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his long, muscular legs. Annie caught herself admiring his tanned legs and comparing them to her own milky white ones, which were definitely not muscular. She made a silent promise to herself that she’d start walking every day once the weather cooled down. The last thing the lodging house needed was an owner who was too out of shape to keep up with the guests, she reckoned.
They sat in a companionable silence for a minute, the sound of crickets and a howling dog filling the night air around them. “I talked to Mr. Martin for a little bit today,” he said at last. “Seems like a nice fella. Tightly wound, though.”
Annie nodded. “I think he’s been under a lot of stress for a while. He and his wife had a hard time last year.” She explained what Doris had told her about the con man stealing their money.
“That’s pretty awful,” he replied. “I hate to hear that. It just goes to show you that there are way too many scumbags out there willing to steal money from decent people.”
Annie realized that she hadn’t had a chance to tell Rory about her conversation with Emmett. “I nearly forgot--Emmett called me. That guy, the one who died? He was a con artist. Emmett says he was wanted in several states and had a rap sheet a mile long.”
Rory sat up straight. “What?”
“Emmett says that he may have even been meeting someone here.” She stopped short at adding the part about a possible murder, but Rory was quick enough to put two and two together.
“Do you think he was killed in some sort of double-cross, or maybe it was a revenge situation? I mean, you just told me that the Martins got conned out of ten thousand dollars. Maybe Frank decided to get some revenge.”
“Ssshhh,” Annie hissed. “I don’t want one of the guests coming out here and hearing this. Emmett thinks that Lou Ross died from anaphylactic shock. When he called to book his room, he did mention that he had a nut allergy, so that makes sense.”
Rory thought for a moment. “If that guy was working with someone, who was it?” He waited for Annie to make a suggestion, but she just shrugged. “Annie, if it was one of your guests--”
“If if was one of my guests, then I have to be extra careful what I say around them,” she
replied, cutting him off. “And I have to hope that Emmett and the rest of the police department are quick in finding out who it is.” She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “And he will find out,” she reassured him, “but he has to be discreet. If the killer thinks someone’s on to him or her, they could run. Or panic,” she added.
“Would that be a bad thing?” he asked. “I mean, it would be better for you if the killer just up and left, right?”
Annie hesitated. “It might be better for our safety, but there would still be a killer at large, only then Emmett wouldn’t have any idea of how to find them.”
“But they killed a bad guy,” Rory countered, “someone who conned people out of their money for a living.”
“It doesn’t matter who they killed,” she replied, her voice firm. “Murder is murder. What I’d love to know is why they killed him,” she added.
“If we knew that, we’d probably know who the killer was,” Rory pointed out. “If Frank killed him, which I doubt, one could argue that it’s justifiable homicide,” he joked. “If Lou’s partner in crime killed him, it was probably over money or a woman.”
Annie looked at him quizzically. “Why do you say that?”
“Most crimes of passion are about romances that have gone wrong,” Rory replied. “People do crazy things when their hearts get broken.”
Annie thought about this for a minute. She’d moved across the country and started a new life when her heart had been broken. She hadn’t killed her dead husband’s mistress, though she’d certainly thought about it. “Well, if it was a passion crime, who’s to say it was a woman that did the deed? We don’t know if Lou Ross was into women or men,” she added.
“True. So everyone's a suspect,” Rory agreed. “That is totally not helpful.”
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, each contemplating the death of Lou Ross. Eventually, Annie realized that it had become exceedingly quiet. “I think he’s settling down now,” she ventured, gesturing towards the barn and the previously howling dog.
Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) Page 8