“That sounds fun,” I said to Quentin. “Well, it’s nice to see you again. I’ve just come in to use the restroom.”
“Down the hall, on the left. It was nice to see you again too.”
Despite multiple cups of coffee, I still didn’t have to go, which, naturally, did not surprise me. But I took my time in the restroom, hoping Quentin would have headed back outdoors by the time I walked back into the kitchen. I waited several minutes to no avail. Quentin was still sitting at the table when I came back through. He was talking on his cell phone again, so I just waved and went back outside to the patio.
I pumped another cup of coffee from the thermos, and walked over to where Stone was conversing with the Bloomingfields. I noticed he was using the same line I’d used with Teddy.
“We are actually members of the Baptist Church, so we also knew Pastor Steiner on a personal basis, as well as being involved with the crime scene investigation,” he said to Harold. Harold nodded, and greeted me rather coldly as I joined the group.
Bonnie looked a little dazed, but she greeted me in a friendly tone. I asked her how she was doing. She just smiled and looked down at the ground. I could tell she didn’t recognize me, and was embarrassed that she couldn’t remember my name. I just patted her on the shoulder and reintroduced myself as if we’d never met before.
Harold was telling Stone about the B-2 Stealth Bombers at Whiteman Air Force Base in Knob Noster. I stood quietly and sipped on my coffee as the topic of their conversation switched over to the ongoing war in Afghanistan. After about twenty minutes of listening to the two men discussing war strategies, there was a lull in the conversation and I told Stone I was going to go see if Paula needed any more help. People had begun filling their plates, and were sitting down at an array of card and picnic tables. A few set on lawn chairs with their plates resting on their laps. Some were situated on the steps leading up to the upper deck of the two-story home. A few of the younger men sat cross-legged on the stone patio, holding their plates with one hand and their forks with the other, leaving room for their elders at the scattered tables.
I found Paula, rearranging brownies on a platter, and asked her if I could further assist her in any way. She replied that everything was in order and thanked me for my earlier help. I then walked over to pump another cup of coffee, as if I needed another shot of caffeine, and found that the thermos was nearly empty. I think I’d drunk the biggest part of it myself.
I walked back over to the dessert table to inform Paula of the shortage of coffee and asked her if I could go brew another pot in the coffeemaker inside to pour into the thermos. I assured her I knew she was busy and I didn’t mind making the coffee at all. She agreed, telling me where to find the Folgers and filters.
Hot damn! This time I found myself alone in the kitchen. Before anyone else walked in I hurried to the desk, pulling out the drawer and picking up the three envelopes. One was from the electric company, another from a carpet-cleaning company, and the third one was from a regional life insurance company, called Full Faith Insurance. This one caught my interest. As I slid the papers out of the envelope, I knew this was the one Paula had tried to hide.
Reading as fast as I could, I realized it was the official documents of a whole-life insurance policy on Paula’s father, Thurman Steiner, and the coverage was for five hundred thousand dollars. Further down the page it showed Paula was listed as the sole beneficiary. This was interesting. I wonder if she’d informed the investigators of this fact. Having the papers loose on her desk indicated to me she was in a hurry to collect on the policy. Was she in a financial bind as others in her family seemed to be? Had Teddy hit his sister up for a loan to pay off Harley, his bookie? Is that from where he was hoping the money would come through before Friday? Or did he also have an insurance policy on his father? I knew they all had equal shares coming to them off the proceeds of the policy the church provided for the pastor, but knew it wasn’t a substantial amount, and I didn’t know how soon beneficiaries generally collected in a situation like this. I thought Friday would be pushing it, if Teddy was depending on his inheritance from his father to save his scrawny neck from Harley’s two goons.
Just as I started to fold the papers back up I heard the back door sliding open and Paula’s sultry voice telling someone she’d be right back. I didn’t have time to get the papers in the envelope and the envelopes back in the drawer. Acting on instinct, I flung open the door next to the desk and, still holding the papers I’d extracted from the envelope, stepped inside as rapidly as I could. I had thought it was a pantry or closet, but it turned out to be the door to the basement. I didn’t have time to shut the door before Paula entered the kitchen, so I quickly and quietly made my way down the stairs. Hopefully she’d assume I had revisited the restroom, as I was starting to actually need to do.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs I heard the low growling of one dog, and the high-pitched yapping of another. It was not a walkout basement, and there was only one small window well so it was nearly pitch dark. I didn’t know whether I wanted to be at the mercy of two angry, protective dogs, or one ticked-off Paula Bankston. In a moment of pure insanity I chose the dogs.
“Tiny! Moose! Shut up down there!” I heard Paula shout from the top of the stairs. I’m sure she was wondering why the basement door was open, but she was on a mission and too pre-occupied to walk down the stairs and check out the situation. Instead, she just closed the door. Then I heard the sound of a dead bolt sliding shut. She had locked me in the basement with her dogs, who didn’t appear to want to share their space with me.
Now I decided I’d rather be at Paula’s mercy. Was it too late to change my mind? I ran back to the top of the steps and banged on the door with my cast, calling out Paula’s name several times. She must have just grabbed something quickly and gone back outside. No one came to my rescue.
Moments later a small bundle of energy rushed up the stairs toward me. My eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. With what little light was coming in through the one recessed window, I could tell it was a Chihuahua, a pint-sized monster who thought he was a Doberman pinscher. This must be Tiny, I thought, as he latched on to the bottom of my jeans leg and began thrashing his head back and forth. I backed down the stairs as I tried to shake the miniscule dog off me. “Down Tiny! Let loose! Get off me, you little shit!”
As I backed across the floor of the basement, still trying to free myself from the Chihuahua, I began to hear deep growling behind me, which soon turned into snarling. I could tell from the low timber of its voice it was a large dog. Then I heard the whining of puppies and knew I was in a world of trouble. A mother of nearly any species would fight to the death to protect her young. God knows I’d do the same for Wendy.
As I saw a huge dark dog approach me I, fortunately, also saw a wooden table out of the corner of my eye. It was right behind me, a couple of feet to my right. I could now see clearly enough to realize a huge mastiff was pursuing me. Just as she lunged at me with her gnashing fangs bared, I jumped backward on to the table with the Chihuahua still dangling from my pants leg, its back feet now off the ground as it was swinging back and forth like the pendulum on a metronome.
“Get off my leg, Tiny! Back off Moose!” I yelled, with a violent shaking of my leg that was attached to the small dog’s incisors. Just then I heard the ripping of fabric as the Chihuahua dropped to the floor. I quickly lifted my leg up onto the table.
Tiny continued to yelp and Moose continued to bark and snarl. I was trapped up on the table in the extremely dark basement, and I was terrified. I’d always had a healthy fear of dogs, and now my heart was racing at full throttle. I really did have to pee now, too. Naturally, the coffee would wait to go through me until getting to a restroom was impossible. I hollered out for help as loudly as I could but my cries apparently went unheard.
Back in the corner of the basement I could just make out the sight of four or five squirming puppies, whimpering for their mother. The mastiff p
uppies were already as big as, or bigger than Tiny, who was now jumping up and down like a kid on a trampoline, easily clearing the height of the table. Moose had her massive head draped over the top of the solid wooden table as I stood at the very rear of it. Slobber was running down both sides of her mouth. It was only a matter of time before one of them got a hold on me again.
When my breathing finally slowed down enough for me to speak coherently, I pulled my cell phone out of my pants pocket and dialed Stone. When he answered, I spoke loudly to be heard over the dogs, who hadn’t forgotten I’d trespassed onto their territory. Neither one of the dogs showed any indication of backing off.
“Where are you, Lexie? When you didn’t come back after a few minutes, I asked Paula where you were. She said you’d gone to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee and she hadn’t seen you since. Are those dogs I hear?”
“I went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, and now I’m in the basement, and, yes, I’ve got two dogs anxious to rip me to shreds. How can I get out of here without Paula knowing I’ve been down here? She locked the deadbolt on the door when she came into the kitchen and I had to hide.”
“Why did you have to hide?” Stone asked. “Or do I really want to know?”
“I’ve got something in my hand I think the authorities need to know about, and I didn’t want her to catch me snooping in her stuff.”
“Oh, boy. Well, we’ll get into that later. Right now I need to get you out of the basement. I’ll just go in the kitchen and unlock the deadbolt for you. No problem.”
“It’s not that easy, Stone. I have an ankle-nipping Chihuahua and a mastiff the size of a musk ox, who have me cornered up on a table. I can’t get by them to get to the top of the stairs and escape. Moose, who I assume is the mastiff, has a litter of pups down here too, so she’s even more aggressive than she’d probably be otherwise.”
“How do you get into these situations with such regularity?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” Stone said. “Andy just called, and he and Wendy are going to stop by here for a few minutes. They should be here shortly. If you hear voices at the top of the steps, try to get somewhere out of sight until you can make a safe escape. Okay? In the meantime, stay put where you’re at.”
“Of course. Please hurry.”
Stone rang off, and I balanced precariously on the very back edge of the table, still clutching the papers I’d removed from the envelope sent to Paula by the insurance company. In all of the commotion, I had clung to the papers like a life raft in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Even in the midst of pure terror I couldn’t be distracted from trying to find Pastor Steiner’s killer. I don’t know what that said about me, but it probably wasn’t an enviable trait.
* * *
I waited for what seemed like eternity, when finally the basement door opened and the lights came on. I heard Paula’s voice at the top of the stairs. “Tiny and her pups are down here,” she said. “Tiny is an English mastiff, probably the largest breed of dogs in the world. She weighs a hundred and ninety pounds. The male pups could end up weighing up to two fifty, but that’s at the upper limit for this breed.”
Tiny and her pups! I had presumed wrongly. Moose was the Chihuahua and Tiny was the mastiff. At least the names she’d chosen for her pets showed Paula had a sense of humor.
Then I heard Andy’s voice as he responded, “I was so excited to hear you bred mastiffs. I prefer the temperament of the English mastiffs to the bullmastiffs. I’ve wanted one for so long, especially now that I’ll be living out on some ranch property. It will be good company for Sallie, the golden retriever I’ve inherited.”
The dogs switched their attention over to the new invader at the top of the stairs. The Chihuahua started up with his incessant yapping. I used the noise as a cover-up for the sound of rustling papers as I folded up the insurance document and shoved it into my back pocket.
“Shut up, Moose!” Paula shouted from the landing at the top of the basement stairs. The Chihuahua snorted in obvious discontent, and then continued its yapping as Paula and Andy began to walk downstairs to the basement.
While the dogs were distracted I stepped off the table and crouched down behind a workbench. I was hidden from view as Paula and Andy descended the steps. Peeking around the bench, I watched Andy brush Moose off as if he were an annoying gnat. The Chihuahua immediately stopped yelping, as if realizing he wasn’t intimidating the intruder.
Andy walked straight up to Tiny and held out his hand. The English mastiff sniffed his hand and let Andy caress her head. I wondered why the dogs reacted so differently to him than they did to me. Perhaps it was true that animals could sense fear. Andy obviously had none where Tiny and Moose were concerned.
As he bent down to inspect the puppies, Paula stood behind him, with one hand on Andy’s shoulder, while she related all the details of their heritage and birth. When asked, she stated a hefty price for each puppy. It was a figure that staggered me. Wouldn’t a free dog at the local pound be just as good at keeping Sallie company?
I was surprised when Andy replied, “Okay, fine. I’ll take this one, the runt. He seems to have taken to me the quickest.”
I saw this as an opportunity to escape, but knew I couldn’t ascend the stairs without being noticed and heard. Instead, I walked up behind Paula, and greeted both her and Andy. The dogs were now more interested in Andy than they were in me.
“Oh, my!” Paula said, startled. “Where have you been, and how did you get down those stairs so silently?”
I laughed, and said, “Everyone tells me I walk like a cat.”
Paula didn’t look convinced. I knew she was trying to visualize me being as graceful as a cat after having seen me fall through the stage curtains at the church and knock down an entire display of spaghetti sauce bottles at the grocery store.
Before she could respond, I turned to Andy, “Are you sure you want another dog? Two might be a handful for you.”
“Yes, I really would like a puppy. It will give Sallie another dog to pal around with on the ranch. With all the animals I’ve got now, what’s one more to feed and take care of?”
I agreed with him, but hoped he wasn’t taking on the responsibility of a puppy that could soon turn into a two hundred and fifty pound eating machine just to help me out of a messy situation. The pup would probably eat his weight in Puppy Chow every day. I felt better seeing that Andy seemed genuinely fond of the puppy he was holding in his arms.
“When can I pick him up, Ms. Bankston?”
“Please call me Paula, Andy. Don’t be so formal,” she said, brushing Andy’s arm in a feminine gesture of flirtation. Hey, he’s taken, I wanted to say to her. Keep your hands off my future son-in-law! Besides you’re a good ten years older than he is.
Paula giggled like she was fifteen, and said, “The pups are a month old, so should be weaned in a couple of weeks. I’ll get your number and give you a call so we can arrange to get together then.”
I’m sure you would love to get together with Andy again, Paula. I’m sure you’d like to get together with any good-looking young man who had that kind of disposable cash to spend on a puppy, you money-hungry cougar!
I was still ruminating about Paula’s obvious attraction to Andy and the insurance policy she stood to gain a hefty amount from due to the death of her father, when Andy, said, “What do you think, Lexie? Would you pick this little one, or one of the others?”
I would pick a kitten, a gerbil, or some other pet that couldn’t take my arm off with one bite. The last thing I would pick was an English mastiff puppy who would be the size of a Shetland pony within a year or so.
“Whichever one appeals the most to you, Andy, is the one you should get,” I said.
“This runt’s a male, and that’s preferable to me since I don’t want to breed them or have any litters of pups. I’ll get him neutered, and he should get along fine with Sallie.”
“What will you call him?�
� Paula asked Andy. I noticed she couldn’t seem to speak to him without touching his arm at the same time.
“I think I’ll let my girlfriend, Wendy, name him. She’s outside on the patio.”
Paula took a step back, as if offended by his reference to Wendy. I couldn’t have been prouder. He’d even referred to my daughter as his girlfriend, a fact that would surely thrill Wendy when I told her about the incident later on that evening. That’s my boy, Andy! Now if Wendy can just be as fortunate to snag Andy, as I am to marry his uncle, Stone.
Chapter 11
Stone greeted me at the top of the steps as the three of us went back upstairs to the kitchen. I was beyond relieved to see daylight again. With a worried expression, Stone whispered, “Are you okay? Were you bit or hurt in any way?”
I shook my head in response. “Only my favorite pair of jeans was damaged, I’m happy to report.”
I took hold of Stone’s arm and led him outside. Andy followed us to the far corner of the large patio. “How did you end up downstairs?” Andy asked.
I recounted the sequence of events that caused me to be trapped in the basement with Tiny and Moose. Stone and Andy’s eyes met, and they exchanged a look that spoke volumes. Then I looked around and spotted Paula and Wendy at the beverage cart. Paula was filling a Styrofoam cup with lemonade. She leaned over and spoke to Wendy. I saw Wendy nod in agreement with something Paula said to her. I could tell Paula was sizing up the competition. I was glad Wendy had taken extra time with her hairstyle that morning. Knowing Paula was preoccupied, I pulled out the papers, unfolded them, and explained their significance to Stone and Andy.
After scanning the document briefly, Stone asked, “Did you notice this policy was just purchased a month ago? That seems like quite a coincidence to me. Could she have had a premonition of her father’s impending death?”
“Or could she have precipitated it?” I added, dramatically. After all, I could be a real drama queen when the situation allowed for it. “Could she have purchased the policy as an investment in her future, and then made sure she cashed in on it as soon as possible? Could she be behind Thurman’s death, either causing it herself, or paying a hit man to do it for her?”
Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring Page 14