Death at First Sight

by Lena Gregory

  “Well, still. I think you should take it a little more seriously.”

  Bee dropped back against the seat and sulked. Cass stared out the window as the scenery went by. Old houses, many built hundreds of years earlier, dotted the small residential neighborhood. It wasn’t far to Ellie’s house—you could cross the whole island in less than half an hour—and they pulled up in front of the small, cedar-shingled house a few minutes later. They all leaned forward to peer through the darkness. Not a single light was lit.

  “Hmm . . .” Bee opened the car door.

  “Where are you going?” Stephanie continued to stare at the house.

  “I’m just gonna look around. That’s what we came for, isn’t it?”

  Cass jumped out beside him. “Come on. We’ll just peek in the front window. It looks pretty deserted.”

  “Yeah, what do you think they’re doing? Sitting in there in the dark?” Bee walked up the front steps and peeked through the big picture window while Cass rang the bell and waited. Stephanie stood behind them.

  “Where do you think she is?” Cass cupped both hands around her eyes in an effort to see into the living room. No use—the darkness just reflected her haggard image back at her.

  Stephanie leaned over her shoulder. “I don’t know, but she’s usually here at this time of night. Jay likes his dinner on the table at exactly six, fifteen minutes after he walks in from work.”

  “That’s true.” Bee had given up trying to see in the window, and jiggled the door handle. Locked.

  Cass thought back to the bruise on Marge’s cheek. Had she had a run-in with her son-in-law? The scenario hardly seemed likely. Marge wasn’t as mousy as her daughter. If it came down to a fight between Marge and Jay, Cass’s money would have been on Marge. Jay was a bully, but also a wimp. Marge was made of steel.

  “Come on. Let’s run past Marge’s house. Maybe Ellie’s there.” Cass started to walk away, but Stephanie stopped her.

  “I’ll drive past Marge’s, but I’m not stopping under any circumstances, for any reason. Is that clear?”

  Cass nodded, and Stephanie turned to Bee.

  He grinned. “Crystal, honey.”

  * * *

  Cass peered through Marge’s large, dark bay window with Bee and Stephanie breathing heavily down her neck.

  “Well?” Bee leaned even farther over her back.

  Stephanie crowded even closer, nudging Bee out of the way. “Can you see anything?”

  “Nothing. It’s pitch bla—”

  Bang!

  Cass jumped back, knocking Bee over and slamming her head into Stephanie’s chin. Bee struggled to his feet but succeeded only in getting tangled up with Stephanie and dragging her down in a heap with him. Cass tripped over them but managed to stay upright, barely, by grabbing hold of the porch railing.

  “What was that?” Bee managed to wheeze out.

  “I don’t know. Something smashed against the inside of the window.” Cass didn’t dare take her gaze from the window while she tried to pull Stephanie and Bee to their feet. The three of them clung together as they backed off the porch and down the stairs, terrified to turn their backs on the house.

  “Wh-wha-what do you think it was?” Bee’s words were punctuated by the chattering of his teeth.

  Cass shook her head. “No idea. Something’s in there, though.”

  “You mean someone.”

  Cass shook her head. Stephanie was probably right, but who knew? They kept scooting backward until Cass’s back hit the car. Stephanie ran around to get in, and Bee opened the back door, but Cass hesitated and continued to stare at the dark house.

  “What are you doing? Get in the car.” Stephanie’s urgent whisper broke through the trance that had gripped Cass.

  “We can’t.”

  “What do you mean we can’t? Are you out of your mind?” Bee’s voice was always a bit high for a man, ranging from a tenor to an alto when needed, but now it bordered on soprano.

  “What if someone’s in trouble? Maybe it’s Ellie.” Cass stared at the window.

  “And maybe it’s whoever killed Marge.” Stephanie jumped in the car and closed the door. She turned the key and rolled down the passenger window. “I’m outta here. Are you two coming or not?”

  “No way I’m staying here in the dark with something lurking in that house. Maybe it’s Marge’s ghost.” Bee hopped into the backseat but didn’t close the door. “And if she’s anywhere near as mean in the afterlife, I don’t want any part of her.”

  Cass leaned over sideways, trying to talk into the window and keep an eye on the house at the same time. “What if whoever killed Marge is holding Ellie hostage in there?”

  “What if they are? You want to go in and see?” She didn’t have to look at Stephanie to see the annoyance in the other woman’s eyes. She could feel her gaze boring into her back.

  “Why don’t we just call the police?” Bee started punching buttons on his phone, and Cass finally tore her gaze from the house long enough to look at him.

  “And tell them what, Bee? We were peeking in a dead woman’s window, a woman I just so happen to be accused of murdering? How do you think that’ll go over?”

  He tossed the phone onto the seat next to him. “Okay, then. What do you suggest?” He turned to her, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his arms across his chest.

  Cass shoved her hands into her hair and squeezed. Ugh . . . Why don’t we just get out of here? But she couldn’t. She released her hair and shot her gaze back to the house. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and scanned the dark property. No porch lights shone, and no streetlights cast their light far enough to push back the shadows enveloping the house. She looked up and down the deserted road.

  “Let’s go around back. We’ll see if the door is open.” The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was the only option. She couldn’t leave knowing someone might be in trouble. And she couldn’t call for help, given she was a suspect.

  “Why don’t I call Tank?” Stephanie looked so hopeful, Cass hated to burst her bubble.

  “What do you think he’ll say?” Cass stared at her and waited a beat. “Besides, he’ll end up trying to help us and get into trouble.”

  Stephanie blew her hair off her forehead. “Fine.”

  The thought of Tank gave Cass an idea, though. “Hey, Steph, pop the trunk.”

  Stephanie did as asked, and Cass ran to the back of the car. Tank was fanatical about his wife’s safety—Cass cringed at the thought of the danger she was placing his wife in right that minute—and he always kept emergency supplies in the trunk.

  She dug through the trunk with Bee at her side. “Aha . . .” Cass pulled a tire iron from the meticulously organized provisions.

  Bee pulled the first aid kit out triumphantly. “I’ll just wait here with this.”

  “Put that down and come on. I want to get this over with and get out of here.” Stephanie slammed the trunk closed the second Bee dropped the box.

  Together, the three of them trudged around the house, careful to huddle close, with Cass in the lead, holding the tire iron at the ready. Cass searched the shadows flickering among the trees in the woods bordering three sides of the yard. They crept stealthily toward the house—at least as stealthily as two women and a better-than-six-foot man, built like a football player and wearing a women’s scarf and platform shoes, could creep. When they reached the backyard, they climbed the three steps up to the deck. Bee and Stephanie stopped short, but Cass tiptoed to the door and tried the handle. Nothing. She paused and stared up at the window.

  “Now what?”

  Cass shrugged and looked around the yard. “I don’t know.” She spied a picnic table. Hmm . . . “Here, help me.” They pulled the table over to the window, and Cass climbed on top and peered in.

  “Anything?” Bee looked
at her.

  She shook her head and looked back at her friends.

  “Good. Let’s get out of here.” Stephanie appeared to be looking everywhere at once as she started to walk away.

  Cass reluctantly agreed. What else could they do? “Wait . . .”

  Stephanie stopped and looked at her expectantly.

  “Did you hear that?” The sound reached Cass again, soft, but definitely a scratching sound. She looked back through the window. A soft whine reached her ears. She glanced at Stephanie and Bee, and then she swung the tire iron. Shattering glass echoed loudly through the silence.

  5

  “Are you crazy?” Stephanie looked like she was about to have a heart attack, eyes wide, face beet red. “You can’t break into Marge’s house.”

  “There’s someone crying in there. I heard it.” Fear clutched Cass’s throat, not for herself but for whoever—possibly Ellie—was crying inside the house.

  Bee held one hand pressed tightly to his chest and fanned himself with the other. “You couldn’t have just knocked on the door?”

  Hmmm . . . Why didn’t I think of that? Cass scowled at the offending weapon as if it had played some part in her momentary lack of judgment. She had no time to linger on the thought, though, because a terrible, high-pitched squeal tore through the now-broken window.

  Cass dropped the tire iron, reached in through the hole, and unlocked the window.

  “You’re going in?” Bee’s bushy brown eyebrows climbed all the way up beneath his bleached blond bangs.

  “That’s it. I’m outta here.” Stephanie threw her hands in the air but made no move to walk away.

  The scratching sound resumed, pulling Cass’s attention from her friend’s theatrics. “I’ll be right back. Just give me one minute to make sure nobody’s hurt in there.”

  “The only one that’s gonna be hurt in there is you, if you get caught.” Bee huffed, and climbed up onto the table beside her. He poked his head in the window, then clasped his hands together and bent over. “Here. Be careful, there’s glass all over.”

  Cass put her foot in his hands, and he boosted her through the window.

  “Hurry up. I’m not waiting out here more than one minute.”

  His words followed Cass into the dark kitchen, but she pretty much ignored him. There was no way in the world either of her friends would leave her in danger, no matter what happened. She didn’t dare turn on a light. She crept silently through the dark, feeling her way so as not to crash into anything. Another squeal sounded from the other side of the closed kitchen door. “What the . . . ?”

  She pushed the door open a little and poked her head through. Not that she could see anything in the dark. She pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button. Dim light emanated from it, illuminating an area about two inches in front of her. She pinpointed the source of the squeals easily enough. Frantic banging rattled a door off the small hallway. As best as she could judge, the noise was probably coming from the room at the front of the house, the one she’d been peeking into when something slammed into the window.

  She tiptoed down the hallway, not really sure why, since whatever was behind that door was certainly making enough noise to mask her footsteps. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath and held it. She shoved her cell phone into her back pocket, gripped the knob, and turned it slowly. She pushed the door open an inch at a time.

  The attack came out of nowhere. One minute she was stealthily pushing the door open, the next she was flat on her back in the hallway, a giant ball of fur planted firmly on her chest. The sound of someone screaming reached her ears. Oh, wait. That’s me screaming. She clamped her teeth tightly together and struggled to get to her feet. If this thing will just stop licking me. She gripped the back of the dog’s collar and tried to pull him off so she could stand. The hallway light snapped on, momentarily blinding her. She reached up to cover her eyes as the weight finally lifted from her chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  She sat up and squinted up into Bee’s irate face.

  “I . . . uh—”

  “Never mind. Just get up and let’s get out of here.” Bee had the squirming dog gripped firmly by the collar with one hand, and he hauled Cass to her feet with the other. He propelled her none too gently toward the kitchen. “Steph’s out there having an . . . episode.” He tried to shove the giant fur ball back behind the door and close it.

  “Wait. What are you doing?”

  He lifted his gaze from the task at hand to glare at her. “I’m trying to get this thing back where it belongs so we can make our escape.”

  Bee struggled with the dog. Actually, it didn’t even seem to be a full-grown dog. It seemed more like a puppy, except it was massive. Its head and paws were enormous. Although its body hadn’t caught up yet, the long fur standing on end made it seem sort of . . . proportionate.

  “We can’t leave it here.” Cass started toward him.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. We can’t leave it here. Who’s going to take care of it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Ellie, or . . . a friend . . .”

  They both knew it wasn’t likely Marge had a friend to come over and take care of her puppy. While Marge was generally feared in the close-knit community, she was not liked.

  Cass’s mind raced. Actually, what was Marge even doing with a puppy? She wasn’t exactly the maternal type.

  “That’s it. You’ve officially gone completely bonkers.” Bee held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and stalked past her before disappearing into the kitchen.

  “Hey, boy.” Cass braced herself as the dog jumped up and planted his big paws against her stomach, knocking her back about two feet before she caught herself. “Down, boy.”

  She pushed him down and returned to the kitchen. A leash dangled from a hook beside the door, and two bowls sat in the corner beside a brand-new bag of food. She grabbed the food and shoved it through the window. Bee grumbled something incoherent and snatched the bag. Cass managed to clip the leash to the wiggling animal, but now what? She couldn’t very well shove him through the window.

  She sighed and opened the back door but then stopped short. Stephanie stood blocking her path, with her arms folded across her chest and her foot tapping indignantly. Her normally frizzy brown hair stood on end, giving her the appearance of someone who had just stuck her finger in a socket. Cass sucked in a breath, prepared for an argument, but Stephanie just turned and walked away toward the front of the house.

  Cass followed silently. She glanced over at the dog, and he lowered his head and trudged along beside her. Bee pulled the picnic table back into place, threw the sack of food over his shoulder, and followed her to the car.

  * * *

  With Bee and Stephanie right on her heels Cass ushered the dog into her house. They hadn’t spoken much on the drive home, each of them seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

  “Well.” Bee dropped the bag of dog food on the floor beside the door and rolled the shoulder he’d carried it over. “Now what?”

  Stephanie rubbed her eyes but didn’t offer any suggestions.

  Cass shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you went into Marge’s.” Stephanie glared at her, and Cass winced. A moment later, a wide grin spread across Stephanie’s face. “Sure did bring back old times, though.”

  Laughter bubbled up as a flood of relief washed over Cass. Things with Stephanie were okay. “Remember the time we snuck into the boys’ dorm and stole all their underwear?” She hadn’t thought of that in years. It had been senior prank day and, on a dare, they’d raided the boys’ dormitory at the college on the mainland during a football game. As proof of their success, they then wallpapered the high school gym with tighty-whities and boxers. Tears rolled down Cass’s face, and she held her side in an effort to
relieve the cramp settling there.

  “You mean a reverse panty raid?” Bee looked appalled, which only made Stephanie and Cass laugh even harder.

  “Langdon was so not amused.” Stephanie could barely get the words out.

  “Not as mad as he was the time we covered all the high school hallways with the leftover sod from the sod farm for homecoming. Ugh . . . The smell lingered for like a week and th—”

  A loud howl interrupted their reminiscence.

  All three of them turned. The dog stood at the front door, head tilted up, howling at the top of his lungs. The sound of tires crunching over the gravel driveway put a halt to their borderline hysterical laughter. Cass pulled the curtain at the front widow aside and peeked through. A pang of guilt shot through her as she glanced at Stephanie. “Uh . . . oh.”

  “Langdon?”

  Cass shook her head. “No.” She swallowed hard. “Worse.”

  Awareness crept into Stephanie’s eyes, and she sighed when a loud pounding sounded against the door.

  Cass bit her lip and waited, unsure what to do. “Quick, go out the back.”

  “Her car’s parked out front.” Bee scowled at the closed door.

  “I’ll say I borrowed it.”

  Stephanie sighed, resignation obvious in the slump of her slender shoulders. “Just let him in.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Stephanie nodded, and Cass opened the door to a red-faced Tank. He glanced back and forth among the three of them and the dog, his gaze finally settling on Cass. “Lose something?”

  She frowned but stayed quiet.

  Tank glanced back over his shoulder, out into the darkness, and then quietly closed the door behind him, keeping one hand behind his back. Uh-oh.

  “Where were you three tonight?”

  “Uhh . . .” Cass glanced from Stephanie to Bee, but neither of them seemed ready to offer an explanation. “Ummm . . .” She caught her lip between her teeth and settled on saying nothing.