Swan with the Wind (Bought-the-Farm Mystery Book 9)
Page 11
I made a sweeping gesture. “It’s not just the crystal ball, Chief. It’s all mesmerizing, don’t you think? Either Lottie really enjoyed mystical collectibles, or she believed she was a—”
Nothing came out so he supplied, “A fortune teller?”
“It sure looks that way. Doesn’t that intrigue you?”
“Not really, because I doubt it has any relevance to the case.” Turning, he ushered me into the kitchen. He flicked a switch there and the overhead light showed an average kitchen without mystical elements. “Miss Greenwich had strained relationships with a number of the residents, including and perhaps especially Mrs. Brighton.”
“Apparently they both claimed to be the better psychic,” I said. “There may have been some ego at stake but it doesn’t sound like motive for murder, does it?”
He shrugged. “Till the autopsy’s done, I’m not using that word.”
“Well, we are,” I said, gesturing to my pets.
“I heard you talking to them. I didn’t hear them talk back.”
I signaled to Keats who was sniffing around the back door. “Right now, he’s about to tell us where to find the ferret cage, unless I’m much mistaken.” The dog shoved a rug aside to scratch at the hardwood floor. “It must be in the basement.”
Chief Gillock smirked. “There is no basement.”
“Check for a crawl space, then. Keats doesn’t lie.”
Shooing the dog away, the chief knelt to rap on the floorboards. There was a hollow sound and after a few moments he found the notch to open a trap door. Sitting back on his heels, he shone his light inside and his expression would have been comical if not for the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Clearly the crawl space held more than a ferret cage, but as I walked toward him, he lowered the door.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “My dog found it.”
“I’ll hand over the cage, fair and square. But you’ll need to leave the rest with me.” He directed a big palm and said, “Stay, Ivy. Stay.”
“Insulting, Chief Gillock. Insulting and unnecessary.”
“I’m sorry about that, but it’s for your own good.” He opened the trapdoor and took some photos before leaning inside to pull out the cage. “And before you get any big ideas, I’ll be clearing out this crawl space personally tonight.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Keats and Percy were taking a good look inside. In fact, as he handed me the cage and a container of what looked like kibble, Percy jumped right in.
I walked over and the chief lowered the trapdoor. Then he cupped his hand. “I’ll take the house key.”
Sighing, I reached into my pocket and Arnie slithered over to my other side. The chief looked a little queasy about my undulating midriff. That made me miss Kellan even more. My boyfriend not only found my way with animals tolerable but adorable. The man before me was similar in many ways, yet he found me bizarre and possibly repulsive. The thought made me laugh out loud and Keats joined in with a happy pant.
“What’s so funny?” the chief asked, waggling the fingers of his right hand. His left still held the trapdoor open a few inches.
I dropped the key into his palm and said, “That you’ve been had by a cat.”
“What do you mean?”
Percy exploded from the crawl space with a bit more flash than necessary, but Chief Gillock’s man scream was a night-brightener every bit as good as a crystal ball.
Chapter Thirteen
Chief Gillock wasn’t the only one screaming at the Briars that night. A much shriller sound ripped out of Bridie Brighton when she witnessed Arnie doing somersaults under my overalls.
All her supposed magical powers apparently hadn’t prepared her for an alien invasion inside a houseguest. And when the ferret’s sleek head popped out of my collar Jilly added her voice to the din. Keats enjoyed every second of the hubbub but Percy retired to Jilly’s bed to catch some shuteye.
“That thing cannot stay here,” Bridie said. “I will not have rodents in the house, Ivy. Honestly, the dog and the cat are pushing me past the point of comfort. I don’t know how you two live with such a menagerie.” She pulled her eyes away from Arnie and looked at her granddaughter. “You weren’t raised that way.”
“True,” Jilly said, smiling. “I was raised to live in a sterile high-rise and wheel and deal in people, not pets. But then I saw the light and I’ve never looked back.”
She reached out and Arnie scampered across her arm like a drawbridge and nestled in the loose golden curls on her shoulder. A year ago, my friend would have taken weeks to adjust to a critter like Arnie. Now she absorbed him into our lives—and even her hair—in under a minute.
“That’s not what we wanted for you,” Bridie said. “Your mother and I had big dreams.”
“Gran, stop.” Jilly’s voice left no room for argument. “We’re not taking that trip down memory lane. Like I said, I’m happy at Runaway Farm. Cooking is my calling. I hope you saw that tonight.”
Bridie looked determined to continue her lament, so I intervened. “Speaking of seeing the light, I held my first crystal ball tonight.”
“What?” Bridie and Jilly spoke in unison and it was nice to hear them agree, if only in surprise.
“I heard about Arnie, Lottie’s ferret, from Constable Doug earlier. He said you knew about it, Bridie, and were threatening to expose her.”
Her brow furrowed. “I suspected she had an illicit pet because she was covered in brown hair sometimes. But I would never rat someone out for… well, keeping a rat. Lottie and I clashed about tarot interpretations, but I wouldn’t sink so low as to part her from a pet.”
“Doug was wrong about your threat, but right about the ferret. I figured Arnie would evade the police, so I went over to rescue him. Keats and Percy rounded him up with no trouble, and while they did, I checked out Lottie’s place. There was a pretty crystal ball.”
Bridie nodded. “It’s an antique. The finest quality. I’ve never been able to see a darn thing in it and trust me, I’ve tried. I don’t think Lottie could either, although she pretended otherwise.”
Tipping her head, Jilly asked, “Did you see something, Ivy?”
I shrugged. “I thought so, but it was probably an optical illusion. I’m so tired I could pass out on my feet.”
“What did you see?” she asked, stroking Arnie with one finger. “I bet it was the farm.”
“Yeah. Edna was getting chased around the camelid pasture by Drama and the thugs. And Clippers.”
“Clippers? What would he be doing out there?”
“He wouldn’t be. That’s how I know I was delirious.”
“What else did you see?” Bridie asked.
“The swan. He was flapping like crazy, ready to attack someone. I nearly dropped the crystal ball. That’s when Chief Gillock came in.”
“Is the ball okay?” Bridie said. “I’d love to acquire it if there’s an estate sale.”
Ignoring that, Jilly asked, “And what about Chief Gillock? Did he give you a hard time for trespassing?”
“Oh yeah. But then Keats revealed something the chief didn’t know about.”
“What?” Bridie was curious enough to come a little closer to Arnie.
I shrugged. “He wouldn’t let me see. Keats and Percy got a good look and a sniff, though.”
“That’s okay, then,” Jilly said. “They’ll know what to look for.”
Bridie stared at her granddaughter. “Jilly, really. You don’t believe these two pets can help solve Lottie’s murder?”
“I bet Arnie knows something, too,” Jilly said. “And the swan even more. It’ll take Ivy’s brilliant mind to put all the pieces together, but I have full confidence she will. In the meantime, Gran, you and I need to keep people busy and distracted. I spoke to the chief at dinner and he said we could go into town tomorrow, as long as Constable Doug comes along.”
I looked at Keats and shook my head. “I doubt anyone’s the safer with Doug on duty. What happened to the other cop? The nicer one?”
“You know who we really need on the job?” I asked.
“Edna,” Jilly said, without losing a beat. “And Gertie, too. Seniors guarding seniors.”
“Who are these women?” Bridie asked.
“Edna is our nosy neighbor who’s saved my bacon—and my pig—a few times. Her hobby is preparing for the end of the world, a passion she shares with Gertie. We have plenty of friends in Clover Grove, but they’re the ones we count on most.”
“More than your boyfriends?” Bridie asked, with a sly smile. “Officers of the law, both of them?”
I gave her a sly smile back. “Oh, we count on them, too, when we want to follow protocol. When we don’t, our prepper friends have our back. Keats and Percy are the first line of defense, of course.”
“It sounds like quite a network.” Bridie sounded wistful, and it was all I could do not to invite her home to the farm then and there. “You never really know who your friends are at the Briars.”
I opened the door to Arnie’s cage and Jilly stuck her hand inside. The ferret scooted down her arm and then dropped into the cage. I closed the door behind him.
“Sleep tight, little guy,” I said. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to find out who Bridie’s true friends are, which is the first step toward finding out who Lottie’s true friends weren’t.”
Arnie stared out at Bridie with beady eyes, as if trying to tell her something. No one understood the message, least of all his new hostess.
“How exactly do you intend to do that, Ivy?” she asked.
“Old-fashioned HR skills,” I said. “Conversation that isn’t as casual as it seems. It’s one of the few gifts from my old job. Believe it or not, listening carefully even helps with animals.”
She shook her head skeptically and then herded us to our bedrooms with less finesse than a certain sheepdog. “I know you’re well intended, Ivy, but this all sounds like hogwash.”
Jilly turned quickly. “Gran, you be nice. We came a long way to help you. Ivy is suspending her disbelief about your hogwash, so you can do the same for her.”
“You were a sweet little girl,” Bridie said, giving her a none-too-gentle push into a guest room. “Now you’re…”
“Tough,” I said. “Tough as nails and the best friend anyone could ask for.”
“I wonder how I turned out this way,” Jilly said, turning to her grandmother. “I think we could pin it to an exact day.”
“That must have been your warrior birthday,” I said. “We should celebrate it every year.” I gave Bridie a look that drew on the grim reaper of the old days. “We’re all tired. And for the record, my mom always points out how sweet I was, too. The day I swung a baseball bat at a criminal in an alley changed all that. And Jilly was right behind me.”
Whatever Bridie wanted to say lodged in her throat and she stared at me, probably sensing she couldn’t get to Jilly except through me and my army. That changed the stakes.
“Goodnight, girls,” she said at last. “It’s wonderful to have you here.”
It was enough of a retreat that Keats gently herded Bridie toward Jilly, whose arms opened to offer another hug.
Sometimes it took a murder and a sheepdog to chase old demons into the cage where they belonged.
I was up and out of the house at dawn the next day, eager to make my rounds and also give Jilly and her grandmother some privacy to catch up.
Keats and Percy trotted down the street ahead of me and automatically turned toward the pond.
“Wait, boys,” I said. “We’ll get there, but let’s be sensible for a change and wait till it’s light before getting too adventurous.” I signaled them to head for the main square instead. “Besides, I feel jet-lagged and desperate for coffee. Maybe that café opens early.”
The Silver Spoon was not only open but crowded when we arrived. All the seats inside were taken and most on the patio. Hands rose in greeting and I noticed many people looked a little friendlier than they had the day before. Jilly’s potluck dinner had thawed some hearts, it seemed, and Percy and Keats got to work on the rest. I went inside to get my coffee and they wove among the seats, doing their ambassador thing. Percy accepted an offer to jump into Elsie Cornwall’s lap, bringing a smile like sunshine.
Keats cast a wider net and I watched his reactions through the window. His ears flicked as he took a measure on character. No one impressed him greatly, but there were no alarm bells, either.
With a large cup of black coffee in my hand, I went outside and took the empty seat next to Elsie. We were on the edge of the patio, giving us a bit of privacy.
“Have you learned anything more about what happened?” she asked, getting straight to the point. “I’ve heard you’re nearly as good as the police at figuring out mysteries.” Percy flexed his claws into her leg and she gave a little gasp. “Make that just as good.”
I laughed. “I have my moments but this one’s a stumper. Some say Bridie and Lottie weren’t getting along, yet Bridie says things were basically fine between them.”
Elsie ran her hand over the cat and his purr loosened her tongue. “There was a big dustup a few weeks ago over a tarot card reading and it kept simmering. Many of us read the cards, you know, and they’re subject to interpretation.”
“What was the big deal about that particular reading?”
She glanced around carefully before speaking. “Someone tried at least half a dozen of us to get a forecast on a delicate personal situation.”
“Romantic?”
“I’m afraid so. She was afraid her husband had a lady friend and Lottie’s tarot spread showed betrayal.”
“And Bridie’s said the opposite?”
Elsie nodded. “Naturally, the woman wanted to believe Bridie, even though Lottie’s track record was far more accurate.”
I leaned a little closer and whispered, “Was this Shirley Mills? Vaughan’s wife? He seems like a bit of a player.”
She gave a little sigh. “Very much so. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s strayed, but this seemed to bother her more. Maybe it felt more serious, and it’s difficult to split up, here. You can never really escape your ex.”
I glanced around, too, and saw the parties in question were out of earshot. “Do you think he would have left Shirley for Alba? Or that Alba would have left Ford?”
“Hard to say. Alba’s been unhappy for years, and Vaughan has influence.”
“Might Shirley have been angry enough at Lottie to… well, kill the messenger?”
“I can’t imagine so. We’ve all had bad readings. Some come to pass, many don’t.”
“I suppose Shirley may have been angry enough to remove Lottie from the equation, but did she have the strength?”
Elsie lifted her hand from Percy and shook off orange fluff, watching as it caught a breeze and floated over to land in Alba Fletcher’s lap. “Ford Fletcher may have been the bigger threat. He wouldn’t want to lose Alba, especially not to Vaughan.”
“Wronged spouses are a good place to start,” I said. “I’m sure the police will have that angle covered. I like to look at less obvious motives first.”
“All I can say is that Lottie started to look harried recently. She was always independent but she withdrew even more. It seemed like she was always looking over her shoulder. I did wonder if Vaughan or Ford had been giving her a hard time over her predictions. Perhaps it was something worse.”
“Worse how?”
Elsie resumed patting Percy with one hand while buttoning and unbuttoning her yellow cotton cardigan with the other. The thread must have been heavy-duty to hold up under the habit.
“Maybe an outsider? As I mentioned, she had a nephew in trouble somewhere. It’s difficult to get in and out of here, but it has happened.” She watched Alba flick the orange fluff away with disgust. “Honestly, that seems more likely at this point, Ivy.”
I was pre
tty sure Vaughan Mills had left the Briars through a breach in the fencing yesterday on Special Constable Doug’s Vespa. If he could get out, enemies could surely get in.
“They should probably beef up security here,” I said. “I’m surprised Vaughan isn’t more worried on behalf of all of you.”
“I’m sure they will when Larry gets back. There’s only Doug now and he has his hands full.”
Not so full that he wouldn’t take a break to go swan hunting.
Keats came to collect me. Hands reached out to pat him and he ducked under each one. The ambassador role had worn thin and it was better suited to Percy’s temperament anyway. This sheepdog wanted to be doing, not schmoozing, and the glint in his blue eye told me we had better places to be right now.
I bid Elsie goodbye and followed the pets down the sidewalk, feeling the weight of many eyes. Between the swan’s antics, our arrival and Lottie’s demise, life had gotten a lot more interesting for the Briars’ residents recently. I couldn’t help thinking sheer boredom was behind many of their skirmishes.
We took a twisty way down to the pond in case anyone decided to follow. I checked over my shoulders often for scooters, wheelchairs and the more fleet-footed. Turned out everyone preferred to stay at the café and speculate about what we were doing rather than do the work of finding out. It was probably more fun that way.
I expected to be alone with the swan but Keats went into a point before we stepped off the pavement onto the trail. His ears were forward and his tail neutral, so I wasn’t particularly worried. Then my eyes lit on a woman with an elegant silver bun sitting on one of the park benches. She was staring out at the water with her back to me. I wondered how she could be so comfortable being there alone. Even I was nervous, and I had a furry crime-detection system.
“Good morning,” she called out without turning. “Beautiful day.”
Maybe she’d picked up on my footsteps or Keats’ pant. With his tongue lolling so early, it was going to be a humid day.
“Gorgeous,” I said, scanning for the swan as I walked toward her. The big bird emerged suddenly from the bushes at the far side, like the sun breaking through clouds. “Oh, good. I worried it was gone.”