by Dale Mayer
“Right,” he said. He smiled, put everything into a big envelope for her, and handed it over. “Remember where you got it from. If you ever need to hire a private detective …” And he let his voice trail off.
It struck her that maybe his company wasn’t doing well. Kelowna wasn’t a huge town, and did anybody really need a private detective in this place? But, right now, as she thought about the murderers and thieves and whatnots she’d come across, she realized there definitely was a need.
She smiled, thanked him, and said, “And if I can help you with any other cases, I’m more than happy to.”
He smiled at that. “An unholy alliance,” he said.
“I think Mack would think that was what he and I have,” she said cheerfully. “The good thing is, because I’m not constrained by police procedures, I get to do what I want.”
“And that is huge,” the private detective said with a smile. He walked her to the door. “And if you get too much business, send it my way.”
“Happy to.” Doreen turned and asked, “You have any cards?”
He dashed back to his desk, pulled off a good inch-thick slab of cards, and handed them to her.
She smiled. “You never know, now that people are finding me. I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing with my life,” she said. “Not too sure I want to be bothered about fixing up everybody else’s lives.”
“I hear you. In this business, you do see a lot of the terrible sides to people.”
“And that’s downright depressing.” They shared a commiserating look, and then she led Mugs back out of the office.
At the doorway he called out, “Do the animals really help in your investigation?”
She looked up, smiled, and said, “Not only do they help, they’ve saved my life many times by now.”
His eyebrows shot up at that, and she nodded. “You have no idea. I’ve been attacked multiple times, usually by people trying to avoid jail time for their crimes, and my animals have saved me each and every time.”
Corey looked down at Mugs and said, “You know that he doesn’t look like anything fierce, right?”
She said in a dry tone, “You know he’s a pedigree show dog, right?”
He laughed at that. “But I bet he prefers digging in the garden.”
“Not only that,” she said, “so do I.”
“Are you saying you were a pedigree show bitch too?” His grin was infectious, so no insult had been intended.
“I was,” she said, “when I was married. But now, like the dog, I much prefer the garden.”
And both of them laughed. She walked out and took Mugs back to her vehicle. “Now that was a very interesting visit.”
Chapter 25
Monday Late Morning …
Back home, Doreen found and scanned in the information herself. “I should have asked him to send me a digital copy, but whatever.” She forwarded it to Mack as well.
When he called a little later, he asked, “What are you doing now?”
“I visited the private detective the lawyer Ranford had hired to look into Jude Burns.”
Silence. “What did he have to say?”
“Pretty much the same as everybody, that he’d like to do anything he could to help nail this little guy.”
Mack snorted at that. “Just love helpful citizens,” he said.
“I got the impression his PI business wasn’t all that great and that some of the cases were pretty depressing and that he was taking another look at his life and maybe not seeing anything he enjoyed the view of.”
Doreen heard a frown in Mack’s voice when he asked, “So who is this guy?”
“The owner of Corey Junior Agency,” she said. “He’s Corey, according to his cards.” She pulled one from her pocket.
“I’ve heard of him,” Mack said, “but I’ve never met the guy.”
“Well, he knew a lot about me,” she said, “maybe a little too much.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just that he knew my name and about the cases I had worked on. Also the fact that I knew you—he called it an ‘in’ with the police. Of course I told him it was more like an unholy alliance.”
At that, Mack laughed. “That’s the problem with solving all these cases,” he said, “you’ve become famous.”
“Notorious,” she said. “Please, famous is for the Hollywood jet set. That’s not me.”
“That’s where you came from,” he said in all seriousness.
“The glittery outside costume does not match the free spirit inside,” she said. “I get that it has taken me a long time to figure that out, but I’m slowly working my way into it.”
“Fascinating,” he said. “You really are a very interesting woman.”
“I’m just me,” she said simply. “And the thing is, for the first time, I’m figuring out what just me is.”
“A very generous, kind-hearted, hardworking woman in transition. Don’t expect yourself to be anything yet. How about you just be you for now.”
She laughed. “You know what? That’s a pretty darn good way to be. I sent you a copy of the PI’s file.”
“I see that,” he said. “So, now I’ve got all these emails about a case we don’t have a case for.”
“A copy of the death certificate is there too,” she said.
“Right. Ed Burns died of a heart attack.”
“Yes,” she said, “but do you realize Jude’s previous girlfriend also died of a heart attack?”
Silence.
She grinned triumphantly. “I get this was never a case for you guys, so you never investigated. Why would you? It wasn’t something brought to your attention. But I am now bringing it to your attention.”
“Thank you,” he said in a dry tone. “It’s not like I don’t have a million files sitting here already which you’ve brought to my attention.”
“You’re welcome,” she said cheerily. “The thing is, three heart attacks makes me suspicious.”
“Maybe Jude likes to date the geriatrics set,” he said in a low voice.
“Plus, as a gardener, I happen to know that digitalis in our gardens can bring on a heart attack or can help soothe a heart in distress. Just saying …”
“And you remember what I always say about assumptions.”
“Remember that thing called proof and evidence?” she countered. “Because the thing is, if you don’t look at the PI’s file, we can’t possibly know if there is any further evidence or not.”
He groaned. “Fine, but I doubt I’ll find anything.” And he hung up.
She chuckled, and then she realized she hadn’t asked him about the forensics on the ice pick. She picked up her phone again and texted him. What about the ice pick?
His response was What about it?
Human blood?
We said so.
Any matches?
Not yet.
She groaned. “Why does science move so slow?” But, of course, there was no answer. Part of the problem was time, energy, effort, money, probably a myriad of other reasons. Like a bunch of other cases being on Mack’s desk. She decided she needed food now. She’d run through enough of her energy, and here she was missing the most basic sustenance of life.
It was Monday, almost afternoon now, and she didn’t even remember what they were supposed to do for their next cooking-lesson meal. Technically they had missed their last cooking class, supposedly to be last night, due to Mack’s crazy work schedule. She thought they had decided on the upcoming weekend for the next one, but what was it they were eating? She frowned as she made herself a sandwich. As she stared at it, she murmured, “It’s a good thing I still love you.”
At that, Thaddeus hopped up and tried to steal a piece of lettuce from her sandwich. Goliath jumped up onto the chair next to hers and then on his back legs, his front paws on the tabletop. His nose was almost against her cheese. Doreen shuffled her plate over and said, “Oh, no you don’t. Guys, this is mine.”
She went to
the cupboard—carrying her plate with her—and got out a few treats for each of them, which she placed in front of them. Instantly they gobbled them up, and, just as fast, they were right back to staring at her sandwich.
She shook her head and tried to mumble around a mouthful of food, but they ignored her, staring with their soulful eyes on her sandwich and then glancing up at her and then back at the sandwich. She rolled her eyes at them, and, from her last bite, she carefully separated a piece of cheese, a piece of lettuce, and a little bit of ham—one for each of her critters—and then popped the very last bite of bread into her mouth.
The pieces disappeared.
She grinned. “You’re welcome,” she said. She got up and put away the food, but she was restless. There was just so much more she wanted to see and to do and to solve. She figured another confrontation with that idiot of a son would be necessary, but she didn’t want to get herself into trouble with the police.
And, if Jude started to feel threatened by her, he was just as likely to say she was causing trouble and get an injunction against her. Not that that would be fair, but she couldn’t exactly see him going any other way because being an obnoxious and overbearing bully was just who he was. She had looked up where Ed Burns’s big house had been and found it easily enough—a huge famous old house on Abbott Street. Just that location alone meant the price tag on the taxes went up by triple what Doreen’s were, but the property value itself was easily ten times what her property would sell for.
It was a perfect time to take the animals for a walk. The Burns estate was a good ten-minute drive away, but that was okay. She planned to drive there and then to walk the neighborhood. Monday afternoon found a few cars driving on the streets, and it was a beautiful avenue for walking. She loved the huge trees that overlooked the sidewalks on both sides, plus it led to a walkway under the main bridge into the downtown core.
So, with all three of her animals in her vehicle, she piled in, took her notepad, just in case she had observations to put down, and she had her app to record on her phone now too. It was a gorgeous day—not too hot, not too cold, sitting around the twenty-seven-Celsius degree mark—with the sun, blue sky, and enough clouds to take down the heat of the sun beating on her back by a couple notches.
With Mugs on a leash, Goliath loose, and Thaddeus on her shoulder, she walked toward the address she had on her phone. It couldn’t be too far away.
She walked down the sidewalk, smiling at others walking with animals, most remarking at her odd trio. So many people were on bikes and Rollerblades and out enjoying life. The foot traffic was surprisingly heavy for a Monday. She thought for sure people would be at work. Maybe that was the difference here in this residential neighborhood. These people may have retired or may be working from home. The street traffic itself wasn’t terribly busy, as it meandered more than going on a straight thoroughfare.
The houses were fascinating. Some had massive gardens. She stopped in front of one in awe. A woman was bent down in the middle of a huge echinacea patch. She lifted her head and smiled, and Doreen exclaimed, “Wow, this is gorgeous.”
A flush of pleasure washed over the other woman’s face, but Doreen meant it. She appreciated the selection and just the vibrancy. “This is truly beautiful.”
The woman smiled and said, “Thank you so much. I have to tell you. It was chosen to be on one of the garden tours.”
“I am not surprised,” Doreen said. “It’s stupendous.” After a few more minutes of talking, she wandered on, beaming a big smile at her critters. “You guys were so good back there, letting me talk without causing a fuss. Thank you, guys.”
The next interesting place, about three houses down, had a mossy front lawn, but it was done in such a way that the lime-green moss and the dark-green moss were almost like a patchwork around a flagstone sidewalk. It was also fascinating—completely no maintenance, and that had stopped Doreen in her tracks. She stared at it for a long moment and shook her head. “Wow, I never even considered something like this.”
A couple walking behind her smiled and said, “Isn’t it great? We love walking this street to see so many beautiful gardens.”
“Never thought I’d see anything quite like this,” Doreen said. She waved at the moss. “And talk about no maintenance.”
“Exactly,” the husband said. “We’ve been talking about turning our front lawn into something similar.”
“I presume some local business can get these kinds of mosses, and I can’t imagine how many years it would take to have them grow into each other like this.”
“I think it took two or three years,” the woman said. “We’ve been walking past it for at least five, and I remember it used to be a green grassy lawn but always involved all the irrigation and mowing. Then they took it all out, scraped it flat, came back with topsoil, and planted all the mosses. It was a little sketchy at the beginning. Brown spots were showing up,” she said with a smile. “But now it’s just stunning.”
Doreen was amazed. “Do you think they’d mind if I took a picture of it?”
“Not from here,” she said with a laugh. “People come just to take pictures of these properties all the time.”
“I didn’t even know this area existed,” Doreen said, looking around.
“If you’re not a multimillionaire, you wouldn’t be living here, so you’d have to find it another way.”
“I don’t fit that rich category,” Doreen said with a smile, “but I could certainly do something like this at home.”
“If you have a lawn that’s costing you water bills, and you need to do something that’ll take back the maintenance, this is a great idea.” They gave her animals each a quick pet and said a happy “Have a good day,” and walked away.
Doreen pulled out her phone and took several photographs of the lawn and then walked back to the woman in her echinacea garden and asked, “Would you mind if I took some photos of your beautiful garden?”
The woman beamed. “Of course not. Have a go at it. I’ve been working on this garden for twenty-plus years.”
“And it shows,” Doreen said with joy. “Some of these plants have to be at least that old.”
“Lots of them are, yes,” she said.
Doreen smiled to see huge hollyhocks along the corner of the house against the neighbor’s. “I haven’t seen hollyhocks in a long time.”
“My grandmother planted those,” she said. “They do ramble over time though.”
“I don’t mind a little ramble,” Doreen said. “It adds that natural touch to a garden, so it’s not quite so cultivated looking.”
“I agree. Some people place their flagstones at perfect right angles to each other and cut their grass exactly one inch above,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not me. I enjoy my garden. I don’t want it to be something I have to be militant about.”
“Good point,” Doreen said, and, for the second time, she waved goodbye and walked on.
Chapter 26
Monday Noon …
Doreen and her crew still hadn’t reached the house she’d been looking for. Several houses later she came to one with a huge imposing brick wall and a massive steel gate in front. Of course this was the Burns house she was looking for. She stopped in front, her trio sitting right beside her feet, while she stared at the old brick that gave the house an estate-looking appeal.
She loved it.
The mammoth wrought iron gates connecting in the center had a big intercom on the side. “Top of the line for everything, isn’t it?”
She wondered if the sisters had lived here right up until their father’s death. She thought so. It did appear a secondary house was on the property as well, and no reason Jude couldn’t let his sisters have that place. She shook her head at that and studied the big imposing place in front of her. It was seriously stunning. But it was also old, with ivy crawling all over it, giving it a bit of a creepy vibe. Just brightening up the windows would help a lot.
She walked to the edge of the p
roperty, guiding her animals over with her, where big cedars were lined up, giving the yard and house complete privacy. The old man had been a bit of a loner and had kept to himself and probably kept the girls to themselves too.
Of course the orchards were not here on this property. They were farther south in East Kelowna. And from everything she’d seen about orchards in general, they usually came with a caretaker’s house on them too. So why couldn’t the girls have had that?
As she and her trio stood here off to the side, admiring the estate, the gates opened, and a Porsche sports car backed out of the driveway. It was him—Jude Burns.
The gates themselves closed automatically. She timed it in her head, trying to figure out if she should go in and take a look around. That would be trespassing though, and a No Trespassing sign was right in front of her. She continued walking to the corner and saw these big properties had alleyways. Delighted, she walked along the back until she came up behind the one she was interested in. The garbage cans were outside, and she already knew from Mack that anything in the garbage was free and clear to be picked through. Not her favorite pastime, but curiosity had her heading toward the recycling bin.
Pizza boxes, pizza boxes, pizza boxes. She stared at them. “Are you serious? You can’t even cook yourself a meal in that fancy kitchen you must have in this fancy estate?” Then she stopped, and she pulled herself upright. “At least make a sandwich?” Because, of course, she wasn’t doing any cooking either—not that she had this gorgeous house and its matching gorgeous kitchen. But Jude could have hired a cook for that matter.
Amid the pizza boxes was also a stack of papers jammed down on the side. After snapping a photo with her phone, she reached for them, pulled them out of the recycling bin, tucked them under her arm, and kept going, calling her animals to keep up. She walked all the way around to the front, until she came back to where her car was. Mugs and Thaddeus appeared to be completely content to stick by Doreen’s side. Goliath, on the other hand, stalked every bird and squirrel as he came to them. She groaned and—for the umpteenth time—called to Goliath, “Come on, buddy. Let’s go.”