by Jessica Beck
“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll pass,” he replied.
To my surprise, Michelle’s car was parked in front of her duplex after all. “There’s no way George could have missed that.”
“Maybe she was gone, but now she’s back home,” Jake said as he got out of the Jeep.
“Maybe,” I said.
Jake paused at Michelle’s car, frowned, and that was when I realized that it was still running. Reaching in through the open window, he shut the engine off and took the keys.
“What’s going on, Jake?” I asked him.
“I have no idea, but I’m about to find out,” he replied as he pocketed the car keys.
As we approached the duplex’s front door, Jake started to knock.
As he did, I was surprised to see that it was already open a bit.
My husband’s reaction was almost automatic as he reached into his ankle holster and pulled out his weapon. It was beginning to be a much too frequent occurrence, in my opinion.
At least he didn’t try to get me to stay behind this time as he started to go inside to investigate.
Chapter 21
As we moved our way through the apartment and entered the back bedroom, it initially looked identical to the scene we’d stumbled across at Dusty’s, minus the stuffed animals.
Michelle lay on the bed, and there was a growing bloodstain on her white blouse and her colorful wrap. This time though, the knife was lying on the floor.
“Michelle?” I asked as I raced toward her.
Jake was careful to search the room first, but I had to see if she was still alive.
“Suzanne? What are you doing here? Somebody tried to kill me,” she said groggily.
At least she was still alive. “Are you okay?” I asked inanely.
“Of course I’m not okay! Didn’t you just hear me? Somebody stabbed me!”
“Take it easy. I’m calling you an ambulance.”
As I pulled my phone out to dial 9-1-1, Jake showed her a clean handkerchief. “I’m going to press this against the wound. It’s going to hurt, but we need to stop the bleeding until the ambulance gets here.”
“Just do it,” she said, and as Jake applied pressure to the wound, she started screaming. “You’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry, but it needs to be done,” Jake answered with a calm and level voice.
“Why are you being so cold to me?” she asked as I completed the emergency call and hung back up.
“I’m just trying to take care of you, Michelle,” Jake said calmly.
“Why aren’t they here yet?” she asked plaintively thirty seconds later.
“While we’re waiting, who exactly was it that stabbed you, Michelle?” I asked her. A part of me felt as though I was ambushing her, but if I didn’t ask the question, and quickly, I’d never get the chance to find out.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see who it was,” she said, “but I smelled some really hideous perfume as it was happening.”
I knew in an instant who it was as Jake asked her incredulously, “You got stabbed in the shoulder and you didn’t see who did it?” It was clear he was having trouble buying it.
“It all happened so fast! I was walking past the bathroom, and someone lashed out at me with a knife. I can’t say for sure, but I think it was a woman,” she said. “The next thing I knew, I was being shoved down on the bed from behind. If I hadn’t jerked forward when I was being attacked, I might be dead right now, just like Dusty.”
I was about to ask her about the perfume again when the front door slammed open.
“Where’s the emergency?” an EMT called out.
“We’re back here,” Jake yelled.
One of the EMTs checked out the compress Jake had applied. “Nice job. You a cop?”
“I was once, a long time ago,” he said.
The man nodded, and then he started to reach for the bloodied knife on the floor.
Jake touched his arm lightly. “You need to leave that right where it is.”
“I thought you said that you used to be a cop,” the guy protested.
“Shouldn’t you be taking care of your patient?” Jake asked him pointedly.
The EMT took the hint. “Sure.” He turned to his partner and said, “Let’s get her on the stretcher.”
“I can walk with a little help,” she argued.
“Sorry. It’s company policy,” he replied.
“Just do as they ask,” I told her.
“Will you lock the house up?” Michelle asked as they were carting her away.
“Don’t worry about a thing on this end. We’ll take care of it,” I said.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” Michelle called out as they wheeled her outside toward the waiting ambulance.
“Sorry, but we have to wait for the police,” Jake said.
I wasn’t sure if Michelle was going to say anything else when the ambulance door slammed shut.
“You got it too, didn’t you?” Jake asked me.
“The hideous perfume she described her attacker wearing,” I agreed.
“Hattie Moon,” Jake replied. “I’m not sure what she’s trying to cover up, but whatever it is, it must be really bad.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to smell nice,” I said in her defense, though I agreed with my husband a thousand percent when it came to Hattie. A little light application would have gone a long way when it came to her technique. “But I get your point.”
“The question is why would Hattie want to stab Michelle?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but it has to have something to do with Dusty Baxter’s murder,” Jake said. “That’s just too big a coincidence to swallow.”
“What is?” Chief Grant asked as he walked in. “Nobody touched that, did they?” he asked as he pointed to the weapon used in the attack.
“Just the killer,” Jake said.
“Good. Thanks for securing the crime scene. How badly was Michelle injured?”
“It appeared to me that the attacker missed all of the vital spots,” Jake answered. “Unless I miss my guess, she should be fine after she gets over the scare of it.”
“If she ever manages to do that,” the chief said. “Did she have any idea as to who attacked her?”
I wanted to keep it to myself, and I thought about doing just that for a split second before I realized that Jake wouldn’t stand for it anyway, so I might as well get some credit for disclosing my suspicions. “We think it might have been Hattie Moon,” I told him.
Jake nodded in approval, but the police chief just scowled. “I was afraid of that.”
“Why do you say that?” Jake asked. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” the chief replied.
When he didn’t explain himself, I asked, “Would you care to share any of that with us?”
He clearly debated it for a few seconds before finally replying. “Everyone else is going to know soon enough. We’ve been looking for Hattie for the past hour.”
“Because?” Jake asked, letting his question float in the air.
“Because we now have reason to believe that she’s the one who killed Dusty Baxter,” the police chief replied sadly.
Chapter 22
“Why would you think that?” I asked him before Jake could manage to do it.
“I’m not really sure I should be sharing that information with you, no offense, Suzanne,” the police chief said.
I was about to accept his answer when Jake startled us both by speaking up. “You know, we’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty as ordinary citizens keeping you informed as to what we know. Suzanne and I are not exactly without our own investigative abilities. Who knows? We might even be able to shed some light on something in a way that you haven’t t
hought of yourself.”
“You know something, Jake? Every day you’re off the force, you sound more and more like a civilian,” Chief Grant snapped at my husband. It was probably the biggest insult he could have made toward Jake, a decorated state police investigator who had served with distinction for many years, and what was more, it was clear that he immediately realized his blunder. “Strike that. I didn’t mean it, and you know it. I’m just under a lot of pressure to solve Dusty’s murder, and I haven’t been getting much sleep lately anyway.”
“It’s fine,” Jake said coolly, making it very clear that it was anything but fine with him. “We’ll leave you to it, then. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than deal with a couple of civilians.” He then turned to me and said, “Come on, Suzanne. I don’t want to be anywhere that I’m not wanted.”
“I’m right behind you,” I said. I was getting ready to blast the police chief myself, but Jake put a hand on my shoulder and smiled softly, though the chief couldn’t see it. What exactly was my cagey husband up to? As I walked past the chief, not only did I not say a word to him, I didn’t even glance in his direction.
“Hang on a second,” the chief said.
“Is that an order?” Jake asked as he stopped to look back at the young chief.
“I said I was sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”
“Not a thing, sir. Not a thing.”
Jake started walking again when the chief hurried to stop us from getting into my Jeep.
“You’ve never called me sir in my life,” the chief said.
“You’ve never acted as though it was all that important to you,” Jake replied.
Stephen Grant took less than a second to make a decision, one that I was fairly sure was going to go in our direction. “I found a bloody scarf,” the chief said softly.
“You found what?” I asked him, clearly much louder than he would have liked.
In a soft voice, he said, “Suzanne, this isn’t information I want the general public to have access to. Early this morning, we got an anonymous tip to look in Hattie’s basket on her tricycle. It was parked out in front of the post office when I was driving past, so I had myself a peek.”
“Did you search it illegally?” Jake asked.
“No, it’s not like the thing even has a top on it. I looked at it from underneath, and through the wicker, I could see something that looked as though it might be significant. It had been initially wrapped in newspaper, but part of it had come undone, and I saw a bloodstained bit of fringe. I confiscated it and had some tests run, and guess what?”
“The blood belonged to Dusty Baxter,” I said before he could answer.
“I wasn’t really expecting you to guess, Suzanne,” the chief said, looking a bit annoyed at me for jumping to the right conclusion, if I was in fact correct.
“But I’m right, aren’t I?”
“You are,” he said gently. “I need to have a long and serious chat with Hattie Moon, and I need to do it right now.”
“Why would she kill Dusty, though?” I asked him. I wasn’t at all sure how long this mutual cooperation was going to last, so I wanted to take full advantage of it while I could. “If he owed her money, she had to know that she’ll never get it back now.”
“I don’t have to tell you how volatile Hattie Moon is,” the chief said. “Are you really all that surprised she might stab him in the heart if he provoked her enough?”
I considered some of my past interactions with the woman, and I knew that the chief was right. Still, there were other loose ends that needed to be considered as well. “Are you saying that she stole Cow, Spots, and Moose as well? It seems like a lot to go through just to get back at Emily’s boyfriend for not casting her for the lead in a silly little play.”
“Does it really, though?” the chief asked.
“No, it makes perfect sense to me,” Jake interjected. “I can see the crime of passion and even the stuffed animal abductions, but why go after Michelle and Max? Those are the bits I can’t seem to understand.”
For my husband to admit that was saying something. The chief just shrugged. “Maybe Michelle knows something, and she just doesn’t realize it. Perhaps Hattie was going to try to frame her with evidence after Michelle was dead and she couldn’t deny anything. As to Max, she could have decided she might as well take care of all of her enemies at one time. Who knows? I’ll be sure to ask her the second I find her.”
“May we tag along?” I asked, realizing that there was no way in the world he would ever agree to that, no matter how badly he wanted to get back into my husband’s good graces. “We’ll stay out of your way.”
“Sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere.” He looked honestly upset that he had to refuse our request, though. Was there a loophole I wasn’t seeing?
Evidently my husband knew what to say. “I know you can’t sanction our presence officially,” Jake said. “But what would happen if we went to see Hattie ourselves about an entirely unrelated matter, done purely by chance?”
The chief smiled a little before he wiped it quickly from his face. “I don’t suppose there would be anything I could do about that.”
“Well, we understand your position, so we won’t ask to go with you again,” Jake said.
The chief nodded, but it seemed to me that he was still feeling guilty about what he’d said to my husband, who had acted as mentor to him for a long time. Jake must have noticed it, too. He stood in front of the chief and put out his hand. “We’re good.”
The relief on Chief Grant’s face was obvious, and I was glad yet again that I’d married such a kind and good man. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Don’t mention it,” Jake said, and then he turned to me and added, “Suzanne, do you feel like going for a little drive?”
“You bet I do,” I said. It was all I could do not to tell the police chief that we’d see him at Hattie’s, but that would have kind of ruined the little play that he and Jake had just performed for each other’s benefit.
As I drove over to Hattie’s just behind the police chief’s squad car, I risked a glance over at my husband. “You’re quite the rascal, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” he asked as innocently as he could manage. It might have fooled a few folks, but it certainly wouldn’t convince me.
“I saw you play the chief just then. Your feelings weren’t really all that hurt by being called a civilian, were they?”
“It stung a little. I won’t lie to you,” he said.
I felt a bit more sympathy for my husband when he admitted to that. There was no doubt in my mind that he was being absolutely honest about it. “I’m sorry. Have I ruined you with my amateur sleuthing?”
“Suzanne, I wouldn’t have missed what we’ve done for anything in the world.”
“But you still miss being a cop, don’t you? An investigator, I mean.”
“Of course I do,” he answered. “If you stopped making donuts tomorrow, don’t you think you’d miss it?”
“Eventually, I suppose that I would,” I said.
Jake just laughed. “Like in three or four hours? It’s in your blood, just like being a cop was in mine.”
“You could always go back, you know. I’m sure they would take you in a heartbeat.” While I was my husband’s biggest fan, I knew that there were rivals in the state police who would be thrilled to have Jake on the job again.
“I’ve thought about it,” he said after a few moments.
This was news to me. “Really? It’s okay, you know.”
Jake took a moment, and then he reached over and patted my knee. “I appreciate that, but for right now, I’m enjoying being here with you. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine and dandy with me, sir. In fact, it’s terrific!” We drove a few more minutes when I said, “Still, you weren’t nearl
y as hurt as you pretended to be.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” he asked with a slight smile.
“No, it’s simply a statement of fact.”
Jake held it in for a few moments, and then he laughed loudly. “I was about to say something stinging in reply when I thought, what would Suzanne do?”
“Wow, I’m honored. So, what did you come up with?”
“I thought about how I could use the perceived slight to help our investigation,” he admitted. “How did I do?”
“It’s scary to me how good you were,” I admitted. “Do you think Hattie did everything the chief said she did?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Jake said after a few moments. “When you look at it one way, it certainly adds up. Then again, we may all be off base. Either way though, I’d love the chance to speak with her.”
“Well, it appears that you’re in luck,” I said as I pulled into Hattie’s place behind the chief. The infamous tricycle was parked haphazardly in the front yard, but that wasn’t the main thing that held my attention.
Millie Farnsworth rushed up to the chief’s patrol car before he had time to come to a complete stop. The poor woman looked as though she was about to have a stroke, and I had to wonder what news she was about to share with the police, and by extension, the two of us.
Chapter 23
“She’s not here!” Millie said, her words rushing out of her in a flood.
“Her tricycle is right there,” I said calmly. “Everyone knows that she doesn’t go anywhere without it. Take a deep breath, Millie, and try to calm down.”
“I can’t,” she said as she began to pace. “I happened to be looking out my back window at my bird feeder. The squirrels keep getting into it, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything.” The woman was absolutely babbling now.
“I’ve got some ideas I can share with you later,” I said, “but you were telling us about Hattie.”
“That’s right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.”