I’ve almost got it away from Choxie, when unfortunately someone yells, Touchdown! on TV.
Ben grunts out “Yes!” and suddenly Choxie’s awake! He flips over and with a speed that’s surprising for such a big, graceless hulk, and he clamps his paw down on the boot in one swift motion. Then he grabs it in his slobbery mouth and pulls it away from me.
Startled, I hiss. I bat out at him but he turns his face aside before I can get him. Then he runs across the room, carrying the boot. I chase him, knocking over Ben’s beer as I go, which alerts him to my presence.
Ben’s up off the couch - towering over us, telling us to cool it. Of course, neither of us listen to him, we’re too busy fighting over that boot.
I reach out with my paw to bat it out of Choxie’s mouth, but the dog is busy flinging it backwards and forwards, so I miss.
I hiss - powerfully. When, just then the doorbell rings.
Ben curses under his breath then goes to answer it, and I hear the sounds of her voice, telling Ben that I’ve escaped again.
But I don’t have time to think about that as I raise my back up to it’s highest height to scare Choxie who drools dumbly and stares at me.
I bat out at the boot and it falls. And this time…all the papers that I stuck inside fall out of it too - along with that little metal thing that once belonged to Agnes.
At just that moment, she and Ben come back into the room. They both look down at us and at the red boot and at all the items that have fallen out of it.
She goes quiet, then says, “What’s that?” Bending over, she picks up the little metal thing.
“It looks like a flashdrive,” Ben says. “And those photos…they’re of you.”
Finally!
PAISLEY
I look at Ben, feeling panicky. “Where did all this stuff come from?”
He shrugs. “I guess it was in that boot, that Choxie found outside that apartment building.” We look through the photos – they’re all pictures of me coming out of the Pet Oasis or going into my house. Photos that were taken when I didn’t realize anyone was watching me. “What does it all mean?” I say feeling majorly creeped out.
“I don’t know,” Ben says seriously. “But maybe the answer is on this flash drive.
Let’s plug it in and see what’s on it.” He goes over and inserts the flash drive into his computer. And as soon as he does, a video starts playing of an old woman with grey hair and a French accent.
She’s looking into the camera, saying, “Zee important thing I must do before I forget, eez to make sure I update my weell, now zhat I’ve found my long lost niece.”
“Who is that?” I say to Ben, who is watching intently. “Is that…”
“That’s your Great-Aunt Agnes” he says. I look at him in amazement.
Then I look back at the screen and watch as the old woman continues to talk:
“I must also to write her a letter and let her know about zee valuable Monet that I have on zee wall. She must make sure not to think eet ees fake and to throw it away.”
Just then, on the video, Pumpkin jumps up in front of the camera and meows loudly until the old lady laughs and pulls him onto her lap. “Okay, Pumpkeen,” she says to him. “I shall ignore the computer and focus on what’s important. On you…” she laughs and pets the cat who purrs contently in her lap. Then she reaches out and turns off the tape.
“Wow,” I say in surprise. I’m flabbergasted. And not just at how affectionate Pumpkin was to the old woman on the tape. But also at the old woman herself. “That was my great aunt? That was Agnes?”
“In the flesh,” Ben nods. “Or at least on video.”
I look at him mystified. Then we both look down at the red boot. “But how did all that stuff get inside there?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Ben said, “but clearly Choxie wasn’t so useless after all.”
“No, he wasn’t,” I say as I pet Choxie, and scratch his neck. “I never said he was useless. Still, I had no idea he was so talented at solving mysteries.”
Choxie looks up at me with obvious pleasure as I bend down to hug him.
As I do Pumpkin hisses wildly at him and reaches out to try to scratch him.
“Pumpkin! No! Be nice!” I scold. Then I turn to Ben. “Pumpkin’s just jealous because Choxie’s such a genius.”
Ben nods.
“You know, I’m thinking, maybe we should walk back down to the building.”
“Sure. Uh…you mean right now?” Ben asks.
“Yeah unless you’re tired.”
“No. Please. I can walk for miles.”
“Or we could drive.”
“Okay,” Ben grabs his keys. “Let’s go check it out.”
PUMPKIN
Finally.
Finally we can go back there to that building and I can expose Rafe for the evil con artist he is. But when we all pile into the car and drive down to the building, I realize they’re not even sure what they’re looking for. I know this because she says, “So what are we looking for exactly?”
“A one-shoe’d woman, I guess,” Ben says with a smile. She smiles back at this though I don’t quite get why. Then we head up look at the names on the buzzer.
“I still don’t see anyone familiar here,” she sighs. “Oh, Choxie, if only you could talk. You could tell us how you got that boot and what it all means.”
Choxie drools inanely as I look down at him from my perch in her arms. Then I start purring loudly, to lull her into a false sense of security. It does the trick. She loosens her hold, letting go of the fear that I might jump out of her arms.
“Aw, look at Pumpkin,” she says. “He’s oblivious to the world.”
Ben smiles and reaches out and scratches me behind the ears.
At which point I leap out of her arms and run! I speed around to the parking lot in back where Rafe and a tall blonde woman are heading towards the stairwell.
I look back her and Ben to make sure they see. You never know with humans, they’re a pretty unobservant bunch on the whole.
But this time they definitely do see. “It’s Rafe!” she whispers loudly.
“Your date?” Ben asks.
“Yes,” she whispers back. “But who’s that lady he’s with?”
Ben shrugs. “I don’t know. But she seems to be wearing both shoes.”
Paisley nods and studies the woman’s shoes. “Yeah, but look at them. They’re similar to that one Choxie found. They’re high-heeled and red. And gaudy.”
“Yeah,” Ben nods. “They’re trashy looking really. Totally, stripper-trashy. Now that I look at them closely.”
She nods but she’s not looking at the shoes any more. She’s looking down, and she looks sad.
Then she looks up, blushing “So I guess I’ve been a fool. Rafe didn’t want to go out with me. He obviously wanted that painting from my house. The Monet that Agnes mentioned on that video. He was just using me.”
“Then he’s the fool,” Ben says, sounding serious.
Startled, she looks into his eyes. They stare at one another.
Really? Now? Just when you’re finally about to help me get to the bottom of this. Now you share a ‘moment?’ Give me a break!
“Should we call the police?” Ben asks her.
Yes! Yes! I think we should definitely call the police.
“And say what?” she says with a sad smile. “That my date’s cheating on me? I’m not sure that’s a criminal offense.”
“No. We’d say your date is up to no good. That we found evidence that proves he targeted you at the pet store and is trying to get a valuable painting out of your house.”
“Yeah well….we don’t really have any proof he’s doing that. Yes, we have the suspicious boot and all the evidence inside it – but your dog found it near his building – not inside it. We can’t even prove the boot and the stuff in it belong to Rafe. Or to that woman he’s with.”
“You’re probably right,” Ben sighs.
We all walk back
and get into the car. As he starts the engine, Ben turns to her. “You know…you should probably find that painting.”
“I plan on it,” she says.
PAISLEY
I say goodnight to Ben at the door. I know he wants to come in and look for the painting but I’m too tired and confused and so I tell him we can look for it tomorrow.
He says “sure” and starts to walk off, Choxie at his side.
Then I think better of it. Why not try to find it now? After all I could really use the money. I call out, “Hey, Ben. Maybe we could look for it for just a little while.”
“Really? Great.” He and Choxie head back to the house, a spring in their steps. Much to Pumpkin’s dismay. But at least he doesn’t hiss at them or try to bite either one of them. He walks away disdainfully and hops up onto a tall bookshelf in the living room where he can stare down at us from his high perch.
“So where do we start looking?” Ben asks. “Have you seen any possible Monets anywhere in the house?”
“No. But then I wouldn’t know a Monet from a Manet from a…a mayonnaise. Well okay. Actually I would probably know a mayonnaise.”
“Especially if it were on the wall, like Agnes said,” Ben smiles. Then he does an impression of Agnes’s accented voice. “Ze monet en zee wall.”
“Well, I guess we should look on all the walls,” I say with a shrug. And to tell the truth I actually do have some sense of what a Monet would look like. “I think he does light, pretty flowery things. At least if I’m remembering correctly. I did a puzzle once when I was in grade school called Water Lilies that was taken from one of his paintings.”
“Okay then, I guess you’re the expert. Upstairs first?”
I nod and we all troop upstairs – Ben, Choxie and me. I look back to see that Pumpkin is still sitting on the high shelf watching – but I’m sure he’ll be joining us soon.
We start in one of the emptier upstairs bedrooms – emptier by GAA standards anyway. It’s still packed with old furniture and stuff but at least there’s a pathway through it all.
“Wow,” Ben says when I open the door. “Agnes really was a…a collector wasn’t she? I’ve only been downstairs. I never realized.”
I smile at Ben’s tact as we head into the breech and begin searching. “Agnes was a little bit more than a collector,” I say as I scooch behind the various shelves and credenzas and telephone tables and nightstands to look at the paintings hanging on the walls. “I’m pretty sure she’d qualify as a hoarder – but only upstairs – thankfully. She kept the downstairs pretty presentable.”
“Uh huh,” Ben nods as he studies a painting that hangs over one of the twin beds. “How about this one?” He turns to face me. “Could this be a Monet?”
I come over and look at it, narrowing my eyes as I study it carefully. The painting has splotches of color, reds, blues greens and all of it rather…abstract. “I don’t think so, it’s the wrong style,” I say squinting at the signature just to be sure. “Plus look at the signature. It says, B. Stott.”
“Hmm. Didn’t see that.” Ben says, moving onto the next painting.
I go over to study two canvases that are leaning against the wall underneath the window. I glance at the signatures. “Nope and nope.”
We spend another twenty minutes searching this room and then the next two hours searching the rest of the house. But all to no avail.
PUMPKIN
“If only Choxie could use his excellent nose to figure out where she kept the Monet,” she says to Ben as they fruitlessly search yet another room for hidden treasure.
Yeah, that’s likely, I think, glancing over at Choxie who is snoring away, sprawled out in the entryway of the room. The slobbering simpleton is so needy that he’s unable to be more than a few feet from Ben at any given moment – and then all he does is plop down to sleep.
Ben smiles at his sleeping canine then looks over at me. “Isn’t Pumpkin’s more likely to know where Agnes kept things?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she says. “But even if he knew, I doubt Pumpkin would let on.”
Smart thinking.
Then, as if wondering whether I really could help her, she looks over at me and stares into my eyes. “Where is it Pumpkin?” she asks me seriously.
I stare back at her, unblinking as she waits for me to give her the answer.
Then, because I firmly believe in positive reinforcement training – I decide to reward her for her insightful realization that she knows nothing and I know all.
I turn and give her a ‘come hither’ motion with my tail, as I lead her towards the promised land.
I walk slowly, giving her chance to follow – then I stop and look back to make sure she is.
And…I have to give it to her. She is. She looks dubious, but still, both she and Ben, (and Choxie, of course) are now trailing behind me as I lead them to a sitting room just off the main bedroom.
I sashay inside and then I look back.
Choxie has (of course) plopped himself down in the doorway again and has to all intents and purposes, fallen asleep. But she and Ben walk into the room and look around.
Ben says, “Wow – this must be the one empty room in the house.”
“Yeah,” she says with a disappointed sigh. “I cleared it out to use as my closet/dressing room. I’ve always wanted one of those even though I don’t have that big of a wardrobe.”
As I walk over to my squeaky toy that’s sitting in the corner and pounce on it with a satisfying HONK, I look back triumphantly.
At which point she and Ben both laugh.
“Well I guess he led me to the treasure,” she says coming over to pet me.
“To his idea of the treasure anyway,” Ben laughs. Then he picks up my squeaky toy and tosses it across the room.
“Yep, he’s led me to the one room that doesn’t have a single painting in it,” she says with a smile. “I’m just going to grab a sweater while we’re in here.” She rubs her bare arms. “It’s so cold and drafty.” She flings open the closet door and it immediately smashes into the wall that’s catty-corner to it.
“You should probably put a door stopper on the wall to prevent that wall from getting smashed,” Ben goes over and touches a slight dent in the wall. “I can do that for you if you want.”
“Really? Thanks, that’d be great,” she smiles. “If I get to keep the house, that is,” she adds sadly. Then she too walks over to the wall to look at the dented wall. “I just don’t why they put the closet door so close to the next wall…but these old houses seem pretty weird.” She yawns, then covers her mouth with her hand – at which point Ben looks at his phone.
“Well, I guess it’s getting late. We can continue the search tomorrow if you want.”
“Sure. That sounds great, although I think we’ve pretty much covered every room. Including the attic and the basement. But thanks again for everything tonight.”
He nods and they look at each other once again. Then they head downstairs with Choxie trailing close behind.
PAISLEY
As Ben and I walk to the front door, I yawn again. I really do need to get a good night’s sleep.
I open the front door to let my guests out, when he looks behind me with interest. “Hey where does that go?” he asks.
I follow his sightline and see that he’s studying the area below the stairs. “What? What do you mean? That’s a wall. Isn’t it?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Ben says, going over to get a better look. He moves the console table out of the way and studies the triangular area below the stairs. “Look how uneven this is. This half of the wall isn’t flush with this half.” He presses on the different areas of the wall looking for some kind of hidden doorway, I presume. “A lot of times people hide storage cubbies underneath stairways.”
“That’s true.” I watch him as he continues to press along the wall. Then, as he gets closer to the edge, the area he presses moves in then pops back out.
“Oh,” I say, surprised.
Moving slowly, I enter the hidden closet which is about four feet wide and five feet deep. And like every other room in the house it’s packed with GAA’s belongings.
“What’s in there?” Ben calls out.
“There are a lot of vintage suitcases stacked along the walls,” I call back to him. “There’s also dust. A lot of dust!” I sneeze as if to prove my point.
“Mind if I join you?” Ben crowds into the closet next to me.
We’re so close I can smell his soap. Or maybe it’s deodorant. Whatever it is it smells fresh and clean and slightly musky.
For a moment we stare into each others’ eyes. Then I can’t help it, my eyes to go his lips. They’re pretty sexy – not too thin, not too thick. Just right.
I force myself to look away. “Okay, um…any paintings in here?” I say.
Ben smiles at me, then slowly looks away. “Um…yeah. Let’s see.”
He moves some of the boxes at the far end of the closet away and low and behold. There are paintings leaning against the wall.
I move closer to Ben for a better view and feel his presence as he pulls each painting toward himself so we can see them better.
“No,” I say to the first one.
“No, definitely not,” I say to the second one.
Then he reveals the third one and we both stare at it saying nothing.
The painting is a long, narrow landscape done in pale yellows and soft oranges. It’s framed in a fancy gilt frame and looks quite old.
“Let’s get this into the light,” Ben says, picking it up and carrying it out into the dining room. He puts it on the dining room table and we both stare at it.
“I see a signature,” I say as I move in close and study the bottom edge of the painting. “But it’s very faint. But that first letter does look like an M.”
“It does. It’s a very nice painting. Striking really.”
Candy Canes & Corpses Page 38