by Ellen Riggs
Elsie sat down in one of the deck chairs and leaned her cane against her knee. “Many families send people here when the circumstances at home are dangerous. Perhaps even criminal. It’s meant to be a short-term solution, but as I’m sure Bridie’s told you, few of us leave.”
“So that’s why security is so tight. Do the special constables manage to fend off intruders?”
“Larry’s wonderful,” she said. “I don’t know where we’d be without him. Doug is another story. Still, it’s felt very safe… until now.”
I sat down across from her and asked the tough question. “Elsie, do you think someone from Lottie’s past may have come after her?”
She looked down to avoid my eyes, only to find herself transfixed by the sheepdog stare. Keats caught her in the tractor beam of his blue eye and teased the words out of her.
“Maybe. Lottie’s nephew was in trouble. On the outside. I only know because she forgot to erase her browser history on my computer when she was cat sitting. I never told a soul. As I said, she was kind to me.”
“Did you ever talk to her about it?”
“I tried. Invited her for tea and walks to give her a chance to chat. Like I said, Lottie was sharp. She knew how to dodge and weave. Probably would have made a good secret agent.”
Keats freed Elsie from his tractor beam—a signal that we’d done all we could for now. The potluck supper later would give us another chance to chat about Lottie’s life, if not her death.
“Thanks for showing me around,” I said, as we walked back inside. “The Briars is a beautiful place.”
She shivered under her cardigan as the air conditioning hit us with an arctic blast.
“Sometimes it feels like a luxury prison,” she said. “But safety first, I suppose. That’s what my daughter says. I hope whoever did this—”
Her words snipped off abruptly as Vaughan Mills stepped out of a meeting room.
“Why so glum, Elsie?” he said. “There wasn’t much love lost between you and Lottie, according to my wife. Shirley’s always going on about the politics between you gals, and I can’t keep up with who’s getting along.” Grinning at me, he added, “This place is like constant recess for grown-ups.”
I wondered for a moment if Elsie had lied to me about being close to Lottie, but she said, “Lottie and I got along fine, Vaughan Mills, and I’d thank you not to feed the rumor mill. You’re worse than the ladies.” She took a little jab at him with her cane and he backed up. “Maybe you could stick to your own lane for a change. If you even know where that is.”
His eyes widened as she stumped off, and before I could even think about trying to question him, he went into the meeting room again and slammed the door in my face.
“Let’s not take that personally, buddy,” I whispered, as Keats herded me back to the kitchen. “He’s probably a little touchy about his driving record. We’ll do some digging into his drunken poker games and seedy love life. But for now, let’s go down and interrogate suspect number one.”
Chapter Ten
Sleuthing had to wait until after I’d collected various things from Bridie’s kitchen for Jilly’s potluck preparations. On the way back to the rec center, I took a longer route and explored the community a little. It consisted of about 40 streets, all nearly identical. The center of town was the shopping hub, although Bridie said groceries came to the door. There was a bookstore, a salon, a barbershop, a pub, a thrift store and a pharmacy, among others. I could easily walk everywhere on foot, but many traveled by golf cart, scooter, or even bicycle.
Special Constable Doug cruised past me two or three times on his hoverboard. For a big man with some extra fluff, he was surprisingly adept at balancing on the one-wheeler.
“That’d be fun,” I said to Percy and Keats, who walked beside me. “Wouldn’t work on the terrain at home but I’d love to take a spin here.”
Keats gave a ha-ha-ha that was decidedly at my expense.
“What? You don’t think I can surf on one wheel? If that’s a dare, sir, I accept it.”
He steered me around the corner where we found police cruisers lined up in front of what must be Lottie’s house. The red-headed chief was leaning against the railing of the low porch talking on the phone. When he saw me he turned his back so I kept walking, deliberately clanking the bags filled with pots and utensils. After a few yards, I felt his eyes on us and turned.
“Hey Chief,” I called. “How goes the investigation?”
He came down the stairs and walked to the end of the driveway. “Pets on leash here, Ms. Galloway.”
“Is that in the Briars bylaws?” I asked, coming back to meet him. “The president didn’t complain about the dog earlier.”
“It’s in our county bylaws. And this property is in my county.”
“What have you got against pets, Chief? Where I come from, that’s a sign of dubious character.”
He shook his head. “You’re not on the farm anymore, Dorothy… I mean Ivy.”
“Aw, you googled me,” I said. “I’m flattered. But it seems like a waste of precious time that you could be using to figure out who murdered Lottie Greenwich.”
“No one’s said anything about murder, and I’d thank you not to alarm people.”
“Everyone’s talking about murder, Chief. You heard that. And my best friend’s grandmother is top of their list of suspects, right after the swan.”
“They put your name on that list, too,” he said.
“Why on earth would I kill someone I’d never met?” I asked. “Do I look like a gun for hire?”
He scanned me from head to foot, and not in a salacious way. I’d changed into clean overalls and my best sneakers. I figured I looked pretty good… for me.
“You look like someone who’d take unnecessary risks to protect those you love. Humans and animals.”
“You can’t believe everything you read online, Chief.”
“True,” he said. “Which is why I called my colleague in Clover Grove. Chief Harper. Perhaps you’ve met.” His smirk told me he knew exactly how well Kellan and I knew each other. “He’s the one who said the words, ‘unnecessary risks.’ Then he asked me to make sure you didn’t take any on my watch.”
My flush started round about my best sneakers and rushed to my face. “You had no right to call Kellan and—”
“Rat you out before you told him yourself?”
“I was going to. Very soon.” I shifted a clattering bag from one hand to the other. “Now you’ve gone and worried him for no reason.”
“Briars’ security tipped me off about your history,” he said. “I was just doing my job. Your job is running a farm and inn. Not interfering in my investigation.”
“My mission in life is protecting animals, including this swan. He didn’t kill Lottie. Unless he has fingers.” I shrugged. “Maybe he has. I haven’t had a look below the waterline.”
Chief Gillock’s auburn eyebrows scaled his pale, freckled forehead. “I won’t engage in idle speculation.”
“It’s not idle speculation at all. I noticed bruising around the collar of Lottie’s dress and since you’re so diligent, I expect you did, too. She didn’t go down without a fight and webbed feet don’t leave marks like that.”
“You’re an expert on swans?” he asked.
“Not quite, but I intend to be. That’s why Bridie Brighton invited us down here. So that I could get to know this swan and cajole him into a better mood. I heard Lottie brought him food morning and night, and most animals won’t bite the hand that feeds them.”
“Do swans bite?” he asked. “Or just beat things to death with their remarkable wingspan?”
“They don’t have teeth, per se, but I understand a nip still hurts.”
His arrogant attitude annoyed me and happily there was something I could do about that. Flicking my fingers, I let Keats work his sheepdog magic. He circled the chief and applied some teeth to a uniformed leg. Judging by the man’s jump, the dog had gotten exactly the right
amount of skin.
“Hey!” Chief Gillock’s voice boomed but there was a satisfying hint of a squeal. “Harper might put up with your dog’s antics but I will not.”
He backed up the driveway slowly as Keats took dives at his boots. Meanwhile Percy swished sinuously around the chief’s legs, trying either to trip him or leave his mark in orange fluff.
“Call these two off right now,” Chief Gillock said. “Or I will have them seized.”
“You won’t,” I said. “Ratting me out to my boyfriend cost you that chance. He’s asked you to keep me from taking unnecessary risks and you know I’d do whatever it takes to rescue my pets.” I snapped my fingers and Keats came right back. Percy did one last swish just to remind me he was a cat and took orders from no one, even me. “I’m sure Kellan will do the same to protect your lady when you visit our town.”
“I don’t expect that to happen anytime soon,” he said. “Too many people die in Clover Grove and there’s been a steady uptick since you moved home. Now it seems like you brought your bad luck to my jurisdiction.”
“Another case of bad timing,” I said. “Just remember that my inn is the perfect place for a romantic getaway. We offer a special honeymoon package.”
Watching his face turn even redder than mine made me feel a whole lot better. Chief Gillock was easy to tease and that might come in handy.
I backed up, too, and nearly got clipped by a yellow Vespa. It was Special Constable Doug upping the ante on community policing. He had a vehicle for every occasion.
“Just stay out of my way, Ivy,” the chief said. “Harper asked me to keep him posted. In case you didn’t.”
“Oh, I will. He’ll be glad to know he’s not the only one Keats herds like a sheep.”
Chief Gillock shook his head. “I don’t actually know what he sees in—ow!”
Keats had delivered another nip to protect my honor.
“Kellan’s quite taken with my style sense,” I said, strolling off in a rattle and clang of metal. “And my natural elegance.”
I glanced over my shoulder and finally the officer found a grin. I didn’t think he had it in him.
Because of that grin, I was going to make solving this case easier for him. I’d even give him the credit and a steep discount in the honeymoon suite if he didn’t tattletale anymore.
“Of course, I was going to tell you,” I said, crouching in the shrubs well back from the swamp. “It only happened this morning.”
“Ivy.” Kellan sounded more exasperated than usual. “The last I heard from you, you’d decided to drive straight through the night because a car tailed you and there may or may not have been a body at the motel. Now there’s a very real one, or so Chief Gillock says.”
“Everything happened so fast, Kellan.” I pressed down the bushes to make room for Keats. Percy had found himself a little nook with enough coverage to shield his marmalade fluff from prying eyes. “Between sinking into pond muck, the town hall meeting and helping set up for the potluck supper, this is my first real downtime.”
“You didn’t think I’d want to hear about this drowning from you directly?” He sounded hurt, which instantly sent chilly tendrils of shame from my chest into my limbs. My hands and feet tingled and my legs, folded under me, felt weak. If I had to run now, I wouldn’t count on my chances of outpacing an irate swan.
Only Kellan could elicit that reaction, probably because I most feared his judgment. Generally I wasn’t terribly concerned about what others thought of me, including my own family and especially the gossips of Clover Grove.
Kellan had a way of bringing me up sharp. When a mysterious death occurred, I preferred to go with the flow. That’s how I ended up in trouble, but also how I uncovered valuable clues. Keats grumbled and I touched his ears to acknowledge his contributions. Going with the flow often meant following the pets’ lead. Maybe my worst failing was forgetting that I was the human in the equation. I tried to stay as present in the moment as an animal, which meant I often forgot to “call home.”
“I didn’t think this was such a big deal, at first.” Moving branches aside with my free hand, I wished I’d worn gloves. Edna had told me to carry my backpack go-kit 24/7. It was time I started thinking more like a prepper. “I mean, any death is a huge deal, obviously, but I didn’t think it would impact us directly. So, Chief Gillock confirmed to you it was a murder?”
“He said enough that I’m worried about you being alone down there.”
“I’m not alone. Jilly, Keats and Percy are with me. And Bridie, Jilly’s gran.”
“Gillock says Bridie was on the outs with Lottie and that people are accusing her of the crime.”
“Which pretty much confirms she didn’t do it, right? The first person named is never to blame. It’s a decoy.”
Kellan managed a laugh. “I didn’t learn that theory in cop college. It must be something they teach in exec-turns-amateur-sleuth school.” He waited a beat. “There is a school for that, right? Or are you totally self-taught?”
“Do you miss me?” I asked. “Because I sure miss you. Luckily I have a few pics of your smirk on my camera roll so I don’t need to imagine your expression right now.”
“Decoy,” he said. “You know better than to appeal to my heart when I’m riding a wave of righteous anger.”
“I’m just reminding you that we’re on the same team, even if we’re working long distance.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Normally I can keep an eye on you and your doggie detective. I had to deputize a complete stranger with boyfriend duty.”
“If it helps, he seems decent enough. I think I won him over with my rapier wit.”
There was a pause at the other end and then, “How old is this guy?”
“Our age. He reminds me of you, actually. But it’s early days. Let’s see how he does with this case.”
Another long pause. “Is he married?”
“I don’t think so. He got all flushed when I suggested honeymooning at the farm.”
“Suggested what?”
“Honeymooning.” Keats’ mouth dropped open in a pant of laughter, which alerted me to Kellan’s misperception. “With another lucky lady, Kellan. Obviously he knows I’m taken. And if you have even the slightest worry, know that Chief Gillock eyes my clothes and my pets with disgust.”
“That’s how it all starts,” Kellan said, laughing genuinely now. “Next thing you know all your sensible plans vanish and you’re enchanted by farming.”
I laughed, too. “You’re overestimating my charms and I appreciate that. But you were always a secret animal lover, whether you knew it or not. Chief Gillock seems to hold them in contempt, which is why I’m worried about the fate of the swan.”
“Gillock suspects the bird didn’t kill this woman,” Kellan said. “He might be kinder than you think, although I don’t want him to be too kind if he reminds you of me. He does seem to have a head on his shoulders.”
“The chief and I both noticed the bruising on her neck. Someone either strangled Lottie before drowning her or held her down to let the pond claim her.”
“Isn’t the place full of seniors? It takes strength to do something like that.”
“These people aren’t what you think,” I said. “Or what I expected. They range from sixty to a hundred and lots are fit and able-bodied. A friend of Bridie’s confirmed some are sent here by their families to protect them from danger in the world outside.”
“What kind of danger?”
I watched the swan glide back and forth. Keats’ and Percy’s heads swiveled in the same slow arc. It was like the beautiful bird had cast a spell on them and they couldn’t look away. Keats had never seemed quite so entranced before. Normally it was the other way around.
“You’re not going to like it,” I said. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“That’s the whole point of this conversation, Ivy. I want to know everything so that I can assess the level of trouble you’re in.”
“Well, there’s a woo-woo element. People either think they have magic powers, wish they had magic powers or are stuck in here because everyone knows they don’t have magic powers.”
“What?”
“I warned you. Woo-woo. But that’s what Elsie and Bridie said, and before you suggest they’re senile, Jilly said the same. You know she’s a hundred percent sane.”
There was silence at his end and I imagined he was churning fingers through dark hair. The mental image distracted me for a few seconds, which was the other reason I hadn’t called him earlier. Thinking about Kellan distracted me more than it should considering we’d been dating eight months. That fizzy buzz should be wearing off by now, I figured. Keats would normally agree with me strongly and vocally, but he was still hypnotized by the swan’s smooth glide.
At last Kellan said, “Jilly believes her gran has… magic powers?”
“No, the opposite. Bridie thinks she has psychic gifts but she gets it wrong all the time. She annoyed the wrong people back home with her prophetic misfires. That’s why her daughter—Jilly’s aunt—shut her in here. Shelley has enemies of her own, too, and the best way to get back at her would be to hurt Bridie. That part makes sense at least.”
“Nothing about what you’re saying makes sense,” he said. “In fact, the Briars is starting to sound like a facility for the delusional.”
“Oh, I know. Maybe they are, but they seem normal in other ways. They love their pets and bingo and potlucks. If they’re a little zany it’s from being cooped up with the same people. There’s drunk and disorderly conduct, gambling and flagrant affairs.”
“In other words, typical small-town antics knocked up a notch.”
“Exactly. I’m not really buying into this magic business. I haven’t seen anything that gets anywhere close to Keats and Percy doing their thing.” I smiled at the transfixed pets. “They’re the only mind-readers I know.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re keeping a healthy skepticism,” he said. “But what about the disappearing body at the motel? The two cars tailing you that managed to stay out of sight? Do you really think you lost them?”