She was about to remark on how glad she was that the dog had stopped crying when she heard barking from inside the house. “What the--”
Annie and Rory both rose from their rocking chairs at the same time and headed for the sound. She hadn’t even got the door opened all the way when she saw the little dog--in Devon’s arms--barking furiously at something just out of sight. She stepped further into the house and followed the dog’s line of sight but saw nothing.
“What on earth are you doing?” She stared at her son, waiting impatiently for an answer. The dog continued to bark, struggling against Devon’s grip. It seemed to Annie that the pup wanted desperately to get into the sitting room, so she peered around the doorway and into the room. Marie was inside, sitting in a chair and reading a book. She smiled up at Annie.
“Everything all right, Annie? That little dog seems awfully upset.”
“Everything is fine, Marie. Sorry to bother you, my son was just putting the puppy to bed.”
Annie returned her attention to the dog. It was no longer filthy, at least. Devon must have washed the pup at some point. That might explain the whining earlier, she thought. She approached the pup and tried to help calm it, but it seemed determined to get into the sitting room. It struggled and strained, barking and growling. If the puppy had been bigger, he might have succeeded at breaking loose, but since he was small, the effect was comical. Loud, but still quite funny.
“Mom, I gave him a bath. I just--he was crying. I couldn’t leave him outside all alone.” Devon made his eyes big, rivaling the pup’s for sincerity. “Just for tonight.”
“His barking is going to keep the guests awake,” Annie replied, ignoring her son’s pleading.
“He wasn’t barking in the kitchen,” Devon countered, “he only started when I got to the stairs. He must have heard something weird in there,” he added, nodding towards the sitting room and giving his mother a knowing glance.
“It’s getting late. People will be going to sleep soon, and I don’t want to have to apologize for a barking dog all night.”
“Mom, listen. Let me take him to my room. If he keeps barking, I’ll put him in the barn again and take my sleeping bag out there so he won’t be lonely. I promise that if he doesn’t stop barking in like, ten minutes, I’ll take him back outside.”
Annie sighed. “Five minutes and you are not sleeping out in that barn.” She gave the growling puppy a scratch behind his ear and watched her son ascend the stairs. As soon as they were out of sight the dog stopped barking.
Rory let out a low whistle. “That dog was not happy about something,” he said, stating the obvious. “I wonder what could have set him off?”
Annie had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Probably it was the stress of a barking dog after dealing with the day’s events, but she couldn’t help shake the feeling that she was missing something important about the dog’s outburst. “I guess I should just be glad that he’s stopped barking,” she replied. “At least the cat doesn’t make that kind of noise.”
“That’s because your cat would gladly hand you all over to an axe murderer if she got cat treats out of the trade,” Rory replied. “Dogs are loyal and protective, and it looks like that one has taken a shine to Devon.”
Annie didn’t want to agree with Rory, but the pup had seemed to be trying to protect Devon from some unseen threat. She hated to admit it, but TigerLily would have run and hid in a heartbeat. “Well, let’s hope Dr. Fisher gives us good news about the pup in the morning, eh?” She rubbed her temples, feeling the beginning pangs of a headache coming on.
“I’m going to leave you under the protection of that ferocious beast,” Rory joked, “and bid you goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Purdy.”
Annie yawned, surprised by how tired she suddenly felt. She watched him step back out through the front door. “See you in the morning, Mr. Jenkins.” She pushed the door closed behind him, then turned and headed up the stairs to her own bedroom for what she hoped would be a peaceful night’s sleep.
12
Where There’s Smoke
Annie sighed in her sleep. She dreamed she was back in New York, just visiting, and shopping on Fifth Avenue. In her dream, she had a wallet that was so full of cash that she couldn’t close it. Her mother was in the dream, too, picking out lovely, lovely things to take back to Rosewood Place. Annie ran her hand across a pair of silk curtains and admired their delicate beauty.
“Aren’t these gorgeous?” the dreaming woman asked her mother. The gentle sound of elevator music filled the room and Dream Annie could just make out a hint of fragrance drifting on the air, probably from the perfume counter.
“I smell smoke.” Dream Bessie’s words were cheerfully inconsistent with the rest of Annie’s dream.
Dream Annie stared at Dream Bessie. “What?” She looked around the Saks department store, but she didn’t see any smoke. She did see some darling pillows and a dreamy floral comforter set.
“Something’s burning, dear. Wake up.” Bessie smiled in the dream, but her words didn’t sound happy. Dream Annie frowned as her subconscious started piecing together her mother’s words. She didn’t want to wake up, but soon, her eyes fluttered open.
Real Bessie was standing beside Annie’s bed, her eyes filled with barely contained panic and her hands holding a glass of water. “Annie, the deck is on fire!”
Annie was out of bed before she’d even sat up properly. Her bedroom window overlooked the backyard and most of the pond, including the deck. She pulled back her curtain, hoping her mother had just dreamed about a fire. An orange glow greeted her and she just had time to glimpse the outline of a person rushing towards the burning deck. Rory.
He had a bucket in his hand and was scooping water from the pond onto the fire, which thankfully seemed to only be on one end of the deck.
“We need to go help him,” Bessie whispered, reminding Annie that there were guests sleeping in the next room. Bessie lifted her glass to reiterate her point.
“Let’s go,” Annie agreed, taking her mother’s glass and sitting it on the bedside table. “You’re going to need a bigger glass,” she said, pulling on her slippers and moving past the elder woman.
“This isn’t for the fire,” Bessie replied, annoyance creeping into her voice. “I was going to throw it on you. I almost couldn’t wake you. You sleep like the dead, you know.”
They snuck downstairs and out the back door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Annie remained calm, which wasn’t easy. Fire was bad news for her business. If murder wasn’t enough to keep guests away, inexplicable fires would surely do the trick.
“How did you know that there was a fire?” she asked Bessie, stopping in the kitchen to grab the bucket they used for mopping the floors.
“I just happened to glance out my window when I got up to go to the bathroom,” Bessie explained. “It was just pure luck,” she added, shaking her head.
By the time they reached Rory, he had the fire almost completely out. “What happened?” Annie’s bucket hung limply at her side. “Are you okay?”
Rory wiped soot from his hand onto his shirt, then he rubbed his eyes and nose, which still stung from the smoke. “Somebody set the deck on fire.” His tone was certain.
“What?” Bessie’s mouth fell open. “How do you know?”
Rory pointed at the spot where the fire had been. The entire end of the deck was black and charred, burned through in a few places. “The fire was just in that one spot, right by the water. And can you smell that?” He sniffed the air, squinting his eyes in concentration.
Annie answered. “Lighter fluid.” Her mind raced back to earlier in the evening, the storage shed and Frank asking about the fishing rods. Wordlessly, she headed for the shed, stumbling in the inky darkness.
“Annie?” her mother called after her, and Rory followed.
The door to the shed was closed, but the lock was off, lying useless on the ground, barely visible in the dim light of the moon.
“I don’t believe this.” Annie picked up the lock and pulled the rounded shackle to confirm that it was locked. “I am positive that I put this lock on the door correctly before I locked it.” She pulled the door open to reveal the bucket of fishing rods and the charcoal sitting inside, but no lighter fluid.
Her stomach churned. She was certain that she’d locked the door correctly. There simply was no way that both she and Frank would have missed the lock falling to the ground right before their eyes. Someone had to have removed the lock again later, but to do that, they’d need the key, which Annie kept in her office, except when she happened to keep it in her pocket. Annie tried to remember whether or not she’d seen the shed key when she’d emptied her pockets at bedtime, but she honestly couldn’t recall if she’d seen it or not.
Rory put a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Annie, you don’t think Devon would have--”
“Would have what? Set fire to the deck he helped you build?” Anger tainted her tone. “You know he wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re right. I just--I don’t see who else would have known the lighter fluid was even in there.”
Annie groaned. “Frank knew. I showed him the fishing rods this evening, during dinner. I told him you could show him our favorite fishing spot.”
Rory thought this over, then shook his head. “I don’t know, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do this.”
“Did you see anyone, Rory?” Bessie had made her way to the shed, picking her way carefully through the darkness. “How did you know to come out here?”
“I had my window open,” he replied. “I smelled smoke and thought my camper was on fire. It took me a minute to realize that the smell was coming from down behind the house. I didn’t think, just grabbed a bucket from the back of my truck and legged it.”
“Well, we’re sure glad you did,” Bessie assured him. “Is it out good and proper?”
“I think so,” he replied, moving back towards the deck. “We’d be able to see any sparks still glowing, so I think it’s good,” he answered again, trying to reassure the two women. “I’ll be able to see the damage better in the morning. I guess it must have got one of the lights, knocked them all out,” he continued. Something caught his eye. “Wait a minute,” he said, moving past Bessie and kneeling on the deck. He reached for something Annie couldn’t see, then an instant later the deck was awash in light.
“Somebody unplugged those lights.” Annie had a terrible feeling in her gut. “I’m guessing whoever it was that tried to burn my deck down didn’t want to be seen,” she said, gritting her teeth.
“Well, why on earth would somebody try to burn down our deck? It just makes no sense!” Bessie put her fingertips to her temples. “Whoever did this needs to pay for the damage, that’s for sure.” She hmmphed and hawwed a little, then sighed. “I’m going back to bed. My body thinks it should be drinking coffee and my brain knows it’s supposed to be under the covers. I’ll see y’all in the morning.” She didn’t wait for a response, but turned and made her way back up to the house.
“She’s really mad,” Rory noted. “I’ve never seen your mother lost for words before.”
Annie shook her head. “She’s not the only one. Rory, thank god you woke up when you did. I’d hate to think what would have happened…” She let her words trail off. “What time is it, anyway?”
Rory glanced at his watch. The luminous dial glowed gently in the darkness. “A little past one. You’d better go get some sleep.”
She started to protest, but Rory shushed her gently. “No, go on. Whoever did this wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back out here now. If it was one of your guests, you’ll figure it out. If it was someone else, well, we’ll deal with that tomorrow, after you get a good night’s sleep.” He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a half-hug. Annie felt a combination of relief, despair, and the sudden realization that she was standing in the middle of her backyard, wrapped up in Rory’s arm and wearing a pair of fairly threadbare pajamas. She pulled away from him with a sigh.
“Goodnight, Rory. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. We can assess the damage then, I guess.” Reluctantly, Annie made her way back up to the house. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her the entire way, but when she turned to look, Rory was nowhere to be seen. Somewhere in the silence of the evening, she was sure she heard a bird calling out, and from the corner of her eye she could just make out the flutter of a blood red wing flying away off into the darkness.
13
Fishing For Information
Annie’s eyelids fluttered open for the second time since she’d gone to sleep and found her mother again, though, thankfully, this time she was fully dressed and carrying coffee. “I thought you might like a cup before you had to come downstairs and deal with our guests,” she explained. “Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting all of them to be up so early, but I had barely even poured my first cup of coffee and wouldn’t you know that Marie woman was standing right there in the kitchen behind me, creeping around like some sort of ghost.”
Annie sat up and saw that her mother had brought two cups of coffee. “I’ll just drink this up here and then we can go down and sort out breakfast.”
“Mama, that’s not like you. You’re normally the life of the party, the friendliest gal in the room. What’s got you so riled up? Is it the fire?” She took her coffee from Bessie and put it to her lips, inhaling the sweet, rich scent before taking a sip. It was perfect, two sugars and cream, and she’d need lots of it if she wanted to make it through the day. Sleep had eluded her for a while after she’d returned to bed, and once she finally fell into a slumber, it was wrought with nightmare images of flames and her dead husband’s coffin.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Bessie admitted. “I just feel like my nerves are on edge. Ever since that fella drowned in the pond, I just can’t help but think that this place really is cursed.”
Annie groaned. “No, Mama, not you, too! Listen, that man didn’t drown. You know that Emmett thinks he was killed by somebody he double-crossed or conned out of some money. That sort of thing could happen absolutely anywhere.”
“Yes, but it happened here,” Bessie countered, “and that Anderson woman was killed here--”
“By her greedy, deranged fiance,” Annie said, “which was unfortunate but again, had nothing to do with any sort of curse. If you ask me, it says more about the state of the world today than it does about this place.” Annie finished her coffee and sat the cup on the bedside table. “I’m going to jump in the shower. You can hide in here from some made-up curse if you want, or you can go downstairs and start breakfast. Personally, I’m starving, and I’m sure Rory would love a cup of coffee.”
Annie’s guilt-trip worked beautifully. “Fine,” Bessie huffed, “but if you find my dead body down there--”
“I’ll bury you up on the hill next to Rose,” Annie joked.
Bessie looked as though she might say something more or at least spit out a snappy comeback, but she simply shook her head and left the bedroom, carrying Annie’s empty mug with her.
By the time Annie made her way downstairs, Bessie was her usual, cheerful self, albeit a little more quiet than usual. Since breakfast wasn’t usually served until a little later, Annie suggested that the guests take coffee out on the front porch.
“It will give me a chance to sort out the fishing rods, too,” she explained. Frank was eager to embark on his fishing trip and Rob had decided to join them. Annie was amused, but not shocked when Kizzy announced that she’d love to go with the men. She assured Frank that she could handle a fishing rod as well as he could, though she seemed slightly squeamish when the topic of bait was brought up.
Rory volunteered to lead the group to Annie’s favorite fishing spot on the far side of the pond. He agreed that it was the best spot for catching fish, though it was quite a trek and very secluded.
“You’ll need to watch out for snakes,” he advised while
checking the rods and tackle box. “And check yourselves for ticks afterward.”
Kizzy laughed when Frank asked, “You meant that’s not just a cute country music song?”
Bessie and Doris busied themselves in the kitchen, preparing a picnic lunch for the intrepid fishers. They prepared sandwiches and thermoses filled with tea, then piled in leftover pie from the night before. “That will curb my temptation to pick at it,” Doris laughed, closing up the basket.
As the small group headed out behind the house, there was a collective gasp as they approached the deck.
“Oh, my gosh, what happened out here?” Kizzy asked, pointing towards the deck with her rod.
“Looks like a fire,” Frank suggested. “Must have happened last night,” he added.
Rob stayed silent. Rory told them that there had been a small fire, but he’d put it out before it spread.
“Oh, my goodness--it’s lucky you caught that,” Kizzy exclaimed. “That whole deck could have gone up in flames!”
Rory cringed at the thought and changed the subject. “I would normally take the boat out, but it only holds two people, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to hoof it,” he joked. It’s not too far, but it will help you work up an appetite getting there. Do any of you have a cell phone?”
Rob nodded. “I do.”
“Good. I’m going to leave you all over there and come back here. I’ve got some work to do this morning,” he said simply. “Just call me or Annie and I’ll come get you when you’re finished if you don’t think you can find your way back.”
The guests laughed at this, but after traveling in and out of patches of trees, away from the bank of the pond and back towards it, they could see the sense in his suggestion. “There are parts of this place that are just so overgrown,” Rory explained, “it’s hard to go anywhere in a straight line. I’ll get around to clearing it up--eventually.”
Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) Page 9