“I bet he wasn’t happy when he heard the news,” her daughter said. “I can just imagine him asking you what you’ve gotten yourself into now.”
“He does seem to think I have rather bad luck when it comes to attracting dangerous people,” she replied. “He was glad to hear that I was sleeping here last night, though. I think he half expected me to go back to the house and lie in wait for the burglar.”
“I think it’s sweet that he worries so much,” Candice said. “He doesn’t want to lose you.”
“I feel bad for making him worry. I never mean to find trouble; it just sort of… happens.” She sighed and shouldered her purse. “I hope you, Felix, and Maverick have a nice and relaxing day. You deserve it. I’ll let you know as soon as I have an update about Keeva.”
She made it halfway down the stairs to Candice’s apartment before her phone rang. Expecting to see either David’s or Detective Jefferson’s number, she was surprised when Denise’s name popped up on the screen instead. Her friend rarely called so early in the day; the red-headed restauranteur was more of a night owl, and preferred to save her social life for the evenings.
“Hey, Denise,” she said when she answered the call. “I can’t talk long. What’s up?”
“Moira, why do I have a giant grey dog sitting in my living room?”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s one of yours. Did you ask Logan to keep her here for some reason?”
“Keeva?” Moira asked, shocked. “What’s she doing there?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea, but you’d better come and get her because Logan is nowhere to be found, and I’m not sure I even know one end of the leash from the other.”
She hurried over to Denise’s house and was greeted at the door by a thrilled wolfhound and a confused friend. Keeva seemed no worse for the wear. She seemed to be considering whatever had happened to her during the night a big adventure, and couldn’t understand why her new owner seemed so upset.
“But how did she get here?” she asked Denise once more, shaking her head in amazement. “She disappeared last night when my house was broken into…” Her voice trailed off.
From what Candice had said, Keeva had last been seen about to confront the burglar. Then, as if by magic, she appeared at Denise’s house, but Logan was nowhere to be found. Had he stolen Keeva from her house? Was it possible that the teenager was the person who had broken into her house twice and ransacked the place? She didn’t want to believe it, but thinking back she realized that her troubles hadn’t started until she had agreed to hire him on as a pet sitter. Taking a deep breath, she raised her gaze to her friend’s face.
“Denise, I think I need to have a talk with Logan. Do you have any idea at all where he might be?”
“No. His room is empty, and his car isn’t here. He doesn’t even have his cellphone right now, so I can’t call him.” She groaned. “I’m a horrible guardian. I was supposed to go out of town for the night to meet with my husband and discuss divorce proceedings, but the meeting got canceled and I ended up staying here. The kid probably went out to party somewhere, thinking I wouldn’t be here to notice he was gone. He could be anywhere.”
“Do you mind if I wait here for him? It’s important.”
Confused, but evidently sensing the seriousness of the situation, the other woman nodded and invited her in for a cup of coffee. Moira sent a quick text to Candice, explaining that she had found Keeva and the dog was fine, but she would have to explain more later.
They had to wait nearly an hour before Logan contacted them. When the call came, it was from a number that her friend didn’t recognize, and she went into the other room to answer it. When she came back, she was pale.
“I know where Logan is,” she said. “They’re holding him at the police station.”
***
Detective Jefferson let both women into the interview room after a brief discussion with Denise. He handed them each a coffee, slid a bottle of water across the table to the nervous teen, then sat down at the table with them. Logan was looking from Denise to Moira with wide eyes. Could he really have broken into my house twice? she wondered. What reason would he have to do something like that? Is it possible he was just acting out after the loss of his mother? I know grief can make people do some weird things.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked.
“What do you think, mister?” Denise asked. “They don’t usually arrest people who aren’t in trouble.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong!” he exclaimed. “I was just looking for Ms. D when a police officer came out of nowhere and snapped a pair of cuffs on me.”
“We need to get this figured out,” Detective Jefferson cut in. “I’ll ask the questions, and you answer them. Okay?” This was directed towards Logan, who nodded nervously.
“What were you doing at Moira’s—ah, Ms. Darling’s—house this morning?” the detective asked.
“Like I just said, I was looking for her. I found her dog last night, and I needed to tell her.”
“Why not just call me?” Moira asked. The detective gave her a dirty look for inserting a question of her own, but let it slide.
“I lost my cellphone, and I didn’t know your number. My dad and I found Keeva wandering around on one of the roads near your place super late last night, and he didn’t think it would be a good idea to wake you up at two in the morning to give her back to you, so we took her to Aunt Denise’s house. I was going to drive her over this morning, but my car only has the two seats and I realized there was no way she was going to fit.”
“So you decided to drive over early this morning to tell Ms. Darling you had her dog back at your aunt’s house,” the detective said. “May I ask why your aunt wasn’t made aware of any of this? Wouldn’t she have been able to make the call for you?”
It was Denise’s turn to blush. “Actually, that’s my fault. I was supposed to be out of town last night, but my trip got canceled while he was out with his father. He probably didn’t even know I was home. I park my car in the garage, and he wouldn’t have had any reason to look in there when he got back last night. And I can confirm that he doesn’t have a cellphone at the moment. He lost it days ago, and I haven’t replaced it yet.”
So far Logan’s story seemed to be adding up. It sounded to Moira like he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was beginning to feel bad for the kid, who still looked terrified.
“I believe you,” she told him. “Thank you for picking up Keeva. I’m so glad she’s okay. It’s a good thing you and your dad didn’t stop by last night—I wasn’t even there, but the police were, and I’m sure that wouldn’t have ended well.”
“I guess you’re off the hook, kid,” the detective said. “I’m sorry if my officer frightened you. He was under orders to pick up any suspicious-looking people who approached Ms. Darling’s house, and you fit the bill.”
“It’s okay,” Logan said with a shaky smile. “It was an interesting experience, or at least it is now that I know I’m not in trouble for anything.”
“Come on,” Denise said. “Let’s get you home. Do you want to have brunch with us, Moira?”
“No… oops! Actually, I was supposed to meet David at my house half an hour ago, and I completely forgot to tell him that I was going to be late.”
She said a quick goodbye to Detective Jefferson, who looked a little abashed for having arrested Logan now that he knew the teenager was innocent. She reassured Logan that he still had a job pet sitting for her, promised to see Denise later that week after things had settled down, then grabbed Keeva from the receptionist and hurried away to her house, hoping that David wasn’t too concerned about her being late.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The private investigator was waiting in her driveway when she pulled up. Keeva, who was in her back seat, squirmed with excitement at the sight of the house. Moira was glad that the dog recognized the place as her home now, and was once again thankful that Logan and
his father, rather than a stranger, had been the ones to find her wandering the streets. Even worse, Keeva could have been hit by a car.
“You found her,” David said with a smile when he saw the dog.
“Actually, Logan found her.” She related the story to him, and he thought about it with a considering frown on his face.
“What, you don’t believe him?” she asked.
“I do, I suppose. It just leaves the question unanswered… who has been breaking into your house? And what do they want?”
Moira unlocked the front door and let the two of them and Keeva into the house. She made a mental note to remember to make David a key of his own. He deserved one, and that way he wouldn’t have to sit outside when she was late, which seemed to happen fairly often. She trusted him more than anyone, second only to Candice, and it would be nice to have another person that could stop in if she needed them.
“I admit that I thought it was him for a few minutes,” she said. “Mostly just because all of this started right after I hired him to look after the dogs while I was gone.”
“That actually might be a good place to start,” David said. She looked at him questioningly. “What else happened right before the break-ins started? Besides hiring Logan.”
“Well… I guess all of this really started right after I got back from Kentucky with Keeva.” She had half seriously wondered if the dog had been the target, but maybe Keeva was tied to the break-ins somehow. But if she was the target, why hadn’t the burglar taken her when he had had the chance?
“Right after you got back from visiting the house of a guy whose wife was murdered,” David pointed out. He groaned. “Why didn’t I see this before?”
“What?” she asked.
“That cufflink that Keeva swallowed, along with the piece of shirtsleeve, you still have it, don’t you?”
“Well, yes. But I don’t… oh.”
David was nodding. “You might have been right after all, Moira. What if that cufflink is evidence of a murder? I should have listened to you and done more digging. I bet you told that Rick guy all about it, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she said. “And it was after that that the intruder started coming around.”
“I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but I’d bet a good amount of money that that cufflink has something to do with all of this.” He shook his head in amazement. “I really should have listened to you when you were first asking me about it.”
“Should we tell Detective Jefferson all of this?” she asked him.
“Definitely. Go get the cufflink, and we’ll drive it down to the station right now. Maybe we can help solve a murder two states away.”
There was only one problem: the cufflink was gone. Moira searched high and low in the mudroom for the plastic container that the vet had given her after Keeva’s operation, but she couldn’t find it anywhere.
“I guess the burglar found what he was looking for,” she said grimly after she had overturned everything in the room looking for it.
“We still need to tell the police what we realized,” David said. “It won’t be as helpful as physical evidence, but maybe it will still help some.”
The next few hours were a blur of conversations with the detectives, lukewarm coffee, and shuffling Keeva back and forth between her and David as they waited at the police station. At first she thought that they wouldn’t be there any longer than it took her to tell Detective Jefferson what she and David had figured out, but once the police got in touch with the station down in Kentucky, things began to move quickly. Moira found herself retelling her story several times and giving a detailed description of the cufflink twice before she was free to leave.
“But stick around town,” the detective warned. “With any luck, we’ll be needing you to help identify the suspect.”
Two hours later, the call came.
“We’ve got the guy,” Detective Jefferson said over the phone. “Can you make it to the station? We’re getting a lineup set up for you.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I only saw him the once down in Kentucky, and my yard was dark when I saw the intruder outside.”
“Just do your best. Anything will help.”
A plan began to form in Moira’s mind, and a smile spread across her face.
***
“Do you want to leave the dog up front with Rosie?” Detective Jefferson asked when she got to the station. “She might be more comfortable behind the desk. There are probably a lot of strange smells in the back, where we’ll be.”
Moira shook her head. “You wanted a witness, didn’t you? Someone to identify the man in the lineup? I think this dog is your best bet.”
The detective looked skeptical, but waved her towards him anyway. He led her and Keeva to a small room with a long window set into the wall.
“This is a one-way mirror,” he explained. “As long as we leave the lights off in this room, anyone in the adjoining room won’t be able to see in. This room is also soundproofed, so your identity is completely protected in here. No one in that room will ever know you were here.”
Moira nodded, appreciating the security measures. She waited for a moment while he spoke with someone on his radio, soon after that, five men, each about the same height and build, filed into the room. Right away she recognized the man standing second from the left as Victor Coleman, Rick’s brother. The tall man was wearing another long-sleeved shirt that seemed out of place in the hot weather, and she saw a fine sheen of perspiration on his brow. He was the only one out of the five men who looked nervous.
“I recognize him from when I went to Kentucky to pick up Keeva,” she murmured to the detective. “But that doesn’t prove anything. It’s not a crime for him to be here in Maple Creek.”
“You don’t recognize him as the man who was trespassing in your yard?”
“No,” she said. “Like I said, it was dark. All I know about that person is that they were tall, which applies to all of these men.”
He nodded, and she got the feeling that he hadn’t been expecting anything better. “Do you still want to try your plan with the dog?” he asked.
“Yes, I’d like to.”
“Number one, step forward. Say ‘hello’,” Jefferson said, pressing a button on the wall so he could speak to the men in the other room. The man on the far left, next to Victor Coleman, stepped forward, coming halfway across the room and said ‘hello’ with a confused look on his face. Keeva looked at him through the glass, then lost interest and glanced back at Moira.
“You can go back. Number Two.”
This time Victor stepped forward. A nervous smile played across his face. As he spoke, Keeva immediately stood up, her posture stiff and her hackles rising. A low growl rumbled from her throat.
“Interesting,” the detective murmured. “Number Two, step back. Number Three…”
He had each of the men step forward and speak, but Keeva showed no interest in any of them. Her eyes remained glued on Victor, and when Jefferson had him come closer again, the growl intensified to a sharp bark.
Suddenly struck by an idea, Moira told the detective, “ask him to push up his sleeves.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “Keeva swallowed the cufflink and part of a cuff. That might mean that she bit him. I wouldn’t blame her, if he was attacking Chelsea.”
The detective nodded, then pressed the button on the wall and made the request. Victor hesitated, but seeing no other option he did as he was told. On his left wrist were the faded bruises and lacerations of a dog bite. Moira traded a triumphant grin with Detective Jefferson.
“This gives us something to go on,” he said. “The police down in Kentucky found blood at the scene that wasn’t a match to the victim’s blood. If this man’s blood is a match, that could place him at the scene of the crime. That could explain why he was so desperate to get the cufflink back when he realized you had it. If someone realized it was his, then they might have started
to wonder what he was doing at the victim’s house days before he told us he got there. Unfortunately, he probably disposed of the evidence already, but if the blood is a match, the case against him should be pretty solid. Good job, Moira. Your methods may have been a bit unconventional, but it looks like you just helped solve a murder.”
Not a bad end to the week, Moira thought as she walked outside with David and Keeva. She hadn’t known Chelsea well, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction at having gotten justice for her. And just maybe Keeva would somehow be able to sense that the man who had killed her owner was no longer a threat.
David glanced over at her, smiling.
“What?” she asked.
“I was just thinking that if you ever decided to close the deli and open a private investigator’s office of your own, you might put me out of business,” he told her. “Cases seem to just fall in your lap, and you don’t do half bad at solving them, either.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be getting any competition from me any time soon,” she joked. “Running the deli and taking care of Keeva and Maverick is good enough for me. I get enough excitement as it is.”
“I’ve never known a woman who was so good at making owning dogs and serving food seem so dangerous.” He took her hand and looked down at her face with an amused expression. “What on earth have I gotten myself into?”
Honey BBQ Murder: Book 10 in the Darling Deli Series Page 8