by Mary Hiker
The hound stretched his nose toward the two to take a sniff as Chevy galloped over to greet his little girlfriend and Princess basked in all the attention. My dog had been in love with Princess since he first laid eyes on her.
“I don’t know his name actually,” I said as I crouched down into a squat, spraying the mud off the hound. “His owner just died, and the deputies asked me to take him to the sanctuary until they can find the next of kin.”
My heart ached for the dog, since he must’ve been wondering why he was with me and not Chief Gus.
“We’ll look after him as long as needed,” Ben said and nodded toward his mobile home on the property. “He can sleep inside my house tonight since he’s already been through so much.”
Ben was the founder of the foster sanctuary and handled the administrative side of things while I trained the dogs and helped out where ever necessary. The elderly man was the best boss I’d ever had. We shared a love and devotion for animals.
“Okay, I’ll bring him over before I head home tonight,” I said, as I finished up a preliminary rinse of the dog’s short fur.
Chevy’s eyes wandered away from Princess and caught sight of the water hose. He immediately rushed over and poked his nose into the middle of the old hound’s bath. My golden retriever had always had a magnetic attraction to water and would trample over his own mother to get to it.
I angled my body to ward him off, poured some dog shampoo into my hand and scrubbed a soapy lather into the hound’s fur.
Suddenly, the back of my t-shirt was completely drenched with cold water. “Aaugh,” I cried and swung around. My golden retriever stood over me with a happy expression and the garden hose hanging out of his mouth. He had positioned to pour perfectly over my head and shirt.
I reached out to grab the hose, but Chevy decided to play ‘keep away’ and ran through the grassy area in a big loop, dragging the hose and spraying water along the way.
I jumped up to make a grab for the hose, which inadvertently allowed the hound to join in the water sport activities. The soapy hound barked with enthusiasm and chased down Chevy and wrestled with the hose, which resulted in Chevy getting drenched too.
Taking the intelligent human route, I picked up the piece of hose next to me and crimped it in half, instantly stopping the flow of water. Looking disgusted, Chevy dropped the hose since there was no more water and the hound trotted back for more sudsy scratching and attention, shaking water and suds all over me upon his arrival.
Chevy rolled on the grass, scratching his own wet body. Unfortunately, the wet ground produced enough mud to cover Chevy’s golden fur, which now required a bath too. My dog loved water. But a soapy bath, not so much.
Ben howled with laughter at the three soaking wet specimens sprawled out on the ground in front of him. He used the sleeve of his plaid shirt to wipe the tears of hilarity from his eyes.
“Whew, I haven’t laughed that hard since my older brother tried to reel in a fish and fell into a pond back in nineteen-sixty-six,” he said, still laughing. “The old boy had a log on the end of his fishing line and never caught a fish.”
Ben caught his breath and retreated to the barn to grab me a bunch of extra dog towels. I could hear him chuckling all the way to the supply room.
After rinsing the soap off the hound dog, I twisted the water from the bottom of my dripping t-shirt and grabbed the bottle of dog shampoo.
“Chevy,” I called and got a good grip on his collar when he trotted over before I squeezed a generous amount of shampoo on his back and lathered up his golden fur, ignoring his pitiful eyes that requested he remain covered in mud.
I chuckled, “Look at the bright side, Chevy. At least you made the new dog at the sanctuary feel welcome.”
Chapter 5
Chevy’s agitated bark in the front hallway woke me with a start. I struggled to gather my wits in my dark bedroom and instinctively reached for my cell phone. It was still before dawn when I staggered out of bed, grabbed a small canister of pepper spray from the nightstand and tiptoed across the wood floor into the living room.
Chevy quieted down as I moved toward the location of my dog’s earlier commotion. As I reached the living room, a soft knock on the door set off another round of furious barking.
“Good boy, Chevy. It’s okay,” I said and turned on the front porch light.
I took a breath and pressed my cheek against the wooden door, peering through the peephole. Miss Emma stood on my front porch, pacing back and forth out in the dark. A pang of guilt swept through me, since I hadn’t been the one to tell her the news about Chief Gus and hadn’t seen her since she learned of the tragedy.
While talking with the deputies at Gus’ home the day before, I mentioned to Deputy Don Donaldson that Miss Emma had sent me to check on her friend. Deputy Don had quickly volunteered to tell her the sad news since he had known her for years. Miss Emma babysat the deputy when he was a child.
I took a breath and opened the door. “Hi Miss Emma, I’m so sorry about Chief Gus,” I said and gave her a big hug. “Come on in. Are you okay?”
I flipped on the lights and glanced at my wall clock as Miss Emma came through the door. It was only five o’clock in the morning. I tried to shake off my grogginess, but noticed Miss Emma was wide-eyed and fidgety. She was already dressed for the day in a powder blue jogging suit and a matching visor that complimented her white, shoulder-length hair.
“I’m okay,” she said as she wrung her hands. “Will you help me find out what really happened to Chief Gus?”
My mind drifted back to the first day I met Miss Emma and my promise to help her out if she ever needed anything. I felt honored that she trusted me enough to ask for assistance.
“Of course, I’d be happy to,” I said, but was also confused. “Why? What does Deputy Don think happened?”
“He wouldn’t say for sure, but I think they’re leaning toward it being an accidental fall,” she said and slowly exhaled.
I was surprised, considering the broken windows and the car I saw speeding away from the Gus’ house. I made a mental note to call Don about it once the sun came up.
“Let me cook you some breakfast and we’ll talk about it,” I said and led her to my kitchen. “My cooking is not near as good as yours, Miss Emma, but I’ll give it a try.”
“You’re so sweet, honey,” she said as she sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed Chevy’s head while I looked for a frying pan.
Making breakfast for the local cooking legend was a lot of pressure, especially for someone like me who rarely used the stove. I decided to keep it simple with scrambled eggs and toast, since my egg yolks usually broke anyway.
After filling our glasses with orange juice and setting some strawberry preserves and apple butter on the table, I served up generous portions of eggs and toast. Chevy pawed my leg and gave me a ‘me too please’ look, so I added a little bit of scrambled egg to his morning kibble.
“Miss Emma, you should come over to breakfast more often,” I said and gulped down some orange juice, hoping a sugar rush would help me wake up. “Now, what has you worried about the investigation into Gus’ passing?”
“Well, Gus had mentioned some kind of secret project he was working on and how he was going to have a good payout soon,” she said, her brow wrinkling with concern. “At the time, I thought he was just telling me one his stories, but now I wonder if the secret project got him killed.”
Taking a bite of toast, I let this news sink in. “Did he say anything else about his project?”
“No, just that he was going to ‘take someone down’ and he couldn’t tell me anymore about it,” she said.
“Like a crime syndicate or something?” I asked and rubbed my forehead.
“Who knows?” She sniffled. “He was just an old mountain man who lived out here in the boonies. How would he even know a crime syndicate? It was probably just a story.”
“I took Gus’ dog over to the sanctuary,” I said and handed her a box o
f tissues. “We’re taking good care of him.”
“Oh, poor Scooter,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Gus loved that dog.”
Chevy laid his head on her lap and nudged her hand, trying to give the older woman some comfort.
“Was Scooter an outside dog?” I asked.
“Oh mercy, no,” she said and laid her hand on Chevy’s soft fur. “That dog would follow Gus around while he worked out in the yard, but otherwise he slept inside on the couch.”
Then why would the hound’s dog food bag be left out in the back yard? I thought to myself.
“Well, don’t you worry about Scooter, he’s become fast friends with Chevy and is welcome to stay at the sanctuary,” I said. “The detectives mentioned that Gus didn’t have any close family near-by.”
Miss Emma raised her eyebrows. “Well, they would be wrong.”
I perked up with interest. “What?”
“Avery, those boys are too quick to come to a conclusion. We need to work on our own private investigation to do right by Chief Gus.” She took a bite of toast with determination. “Are you in?”
I took a bite of my toast to match. “I’m in.”
“Good.” Miss Emma’s face lit up. “I’ll invite the deputies over for lunch and drill them for information.”
“Ha. I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” I chuckled. “Let me know how it turns out, will you?”
She smiled sweetly and patted my arm, “Oh honey that won’t be necessary, you’re going to be right there with me.”
Chapter 6
“Miss Emma, you shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble,” Deputy Don said as he munched on crispy fried chicken and stuffed a piece of homemade biscuit into his mouth.
“Oh, yes she should have!” rookie Deputy Ken said while gravy from his mashed potatoes dripped off his mouth and plopped on the front of his brown uniform shirt. “This is the best meal I’ve had all year.”
Miss Emma laughed and handed the young deputy some extra napkins.
Deputy Ken was twenty-two years old and met the minimum age requirement to be a deputy, but looked like he was only eighteen. He had a buzz haircut and chubby cheeks that elderly women just wanted to squeeze.
Deputy Ken grudgingly put down his fork and wiped the gravy from his chest before reaching across the table for another piece of chicken.
“Miss Emma, if I had any chance of you saying ‘yes’, I’d ask you to marry me,” he chuckled.
Miss Emma’s cat, Tabitha, strolled between the deputy’s feet, looking for any bright shiny objects she could steal. After trying to bite the end off of Deputy Ken’s shoelace, she gave up and padded over to her small bed behind the decorative cabinet in the living room.
Miss Emma leaned forward and asked the deputies, “So, do you think somebody killed Chief Gus?”
Deputy Don’s dark eyes softened. “Don’t worry Miss Emma, we’re keeping watch on this area. You’re plenty safe. Just make sure to lock your doors like you normally would.”
Miss Emma placed her hands on her cheeks and shook her head. “I’ve lived in this house over fifty years and haven’t locked my doors even one night.”
Don’s mouth dropped open. “Geez Miss Emma, maybe you should start.” His face held obvious concern.
“So then, it WAS murder!” Miss Emma exclaimed as her eyes grew big and she put her hands over her mouth. “And it all happened right down the road.”
The young deputy dropped the drumstick to his plate and puffed out his chest, “Now ma’am, we cannot give away details of an investigation. But like Don said, this neighborhood will stay nice and quiet.”
Deputy Don watched the young man out of the corner of his eye, but his hands had grown still as he listened to the conversations around him.
“The only real problems Chief Gus had revolved around being popular with too many women,” young Deputy Ken continued. “But if it will make you feel better, we’ll make sure to check on you, okay?”
Deputy Don kicked the young officer under the table. Deputy Ken covered a yelp by sticking another piece of biscuit in his mouth.
“Okay,” Miss Emma said and patted Deputy Ken’s arm. “I feel safer knowing you’ll be looking out for me.”
Miss Emma sniffled as she slowly got up from the table and reached for a small cardboard box on the counter. “I need to get my tissues,” she said, then turned her back to the deputies and gave me a wink.
That must be my cue, I thought. Time to ask some better questions.
I leaned back in my chair and asked the two, “Were you able to identify the kid I saw tearing out of Gus’ yard yesterday morning?”
“I’m worried it was young Cody.” Miss Emma said and collapsed back into her chair. “He’s supposed to cut my grass tomorrow and if he goes to jail for murder, Mrs. Peterson will gossip to the whole town that my lawn is in shambles.”
She lowered her head and slowly pulled a couple tissues from the box. I had to stifle a smile. Miss Emma was taking this a little too far.
“Don’t worry about snooty Mrs. Peterson or your grass,” Deputy Don said and shifted in his chair. “Cody’s just a person of interest at this point so he should be available to work on your lawn.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said and breathed a sigh of relief. Then her eyebrows knit together and she asked, “Do you think he was involved in murder? Or the vandalism?”
“Was he delivering moonshine? Was he getting ready to burn down Chief’s house? Is he dangerous?” I added.
The two deputies looked at each other and Deputy Don shook his head. “This is still an active investigation and we’re following all appropriate leads. To ease your mind, I don’t think Cody is dangerous.”
Things were quiet as the deputies finished their second helping of Miss Emma’s southern cooking, then were ready to roll out the door and go back on duty.
Deputy Don stood at the door, rubbed his belly and smiled, “I’m about to burst.”
Miss Emma eyes widened as she touched her forehead, “Oh officers, I forgot to ask you…did you find Gus’ daughter?”
The deputies looked at each other and wrinkled their brows, clearly thrown by the question.
“Gus told me that he had a secret daughter,” Emma told them, watching them closely.
Deputy Ken chuckled and said, “Chief Gus was well-known around these parts to be quite a storyteller. And a lady’s man. He might have more than one secret child”
Don herded the young deputy out the door with a stern push, and said, “I’ll check into it ma’am. If he’s got a secret daughter out there we’ll find her.”
Deputy Don reached for Miss Emma’s hand, patted it and pressed a business card into her palm. “This is my cell phone number. If you need anything, you can call anytime.”
It warmed my heart every time I witnessed the way Deputy Don treated the elderly women in town with such genuine kindness.
Miss Emma closed the wooden door behind the two deputies and broke out into a grin. Her green eyes sparkled as she picked up her cat and lifted the fluffy grey furball high in the air.
“Getting information from those two is going to be a lot easier than I imagined.”
She’s mistaken, I thought. I’d spent enough time around Deputy Don to know he hadn’t really answered a thing.
And that meant he was on to something.
Chapter 7
“What kind of criminal history does that kid Cody, have?” I asked, as I cleared the dishes off the table.
“Well, when he was younger he accidentally set his daddy’s old barn on fire while playing with matches. It burned to the ground and they lost some crops,” Miss Emma said and rinsed off the dirty plates before placing them in the dishwasher. “Then there was the time he decided to spray paint some art on the side of the school. Oh, and he broke into a vacation home to watch a ball game on cable T.V. last year.”
“So he’s an artistic, pyromaniac home invader,” I chuckled. “And he
drives like a maniac.”
“I would call him rambunctious,” she laughed. “But he’s been trying to do better.”
“Trying?”
“Cody has a rough home life,” she said with a frown. “Chief Gus recently took him under his wing and taught him how to work on cars.”
“The fire part of Cody’s history kind of worries me,” I said, as I wrapped up the few pieces of left-over chicken. “It looked to me like someone was planning to set fire to Chief Gus’ place.”
Miss Emma stopped what she was doing and turned to me, soapy water dripping off her hands. “I think Gus had some financial worries, he owned some other property with an underwater mortgage.” Her eyes grew wide, “Do you think he’d burn his own house for the insurance money, and use that to pay off his debts?”
I shrugged, “Maybe that was the secret project he was talking about.”
“Hmmm,” Miss Emma turned back to stacking dishes in the dishwasher.
“What did Chief Gus tell you about his daughter?” I asked, as I wiped off the table.
Miss Emma’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember.
“The girl – who by now is a grown woman - doesn’t know he’s her biological father. Apparently, her momma was married to another man when she was born,” Miss Emma wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “The agreement was made that Gus would step aside as long as they cared for the child, but that on his death, it would be made known that he was her real father and that he loved her.”
I felt a twinge of sadness, “Gus must’ve been broken-hearted.”
“He never told me her name,” Miss Emma said, then raised a brow, “But he did say that she’s in his will and that she was getting married a young man from out west.”
“Wow, she’s in for a real shock.”
Miss Emma pushed the start button on her dishwasher. “I doubt that the family ever intended to tell her.”