Hark! A Homicide

by Tricia L. Sanders

  “You insolent little jerk. That stray saved my life.” Mo wrestled with the straps on the gurney, winced, and fell back against the mattress pad. “When I get off here, you’re going to be bagging groceries down at Groeper’s Market. Mattie, call Donny and tell him to fire this idiot.”

  Donny was Lizbeth’s husband and the director of the ambulance district. “Calm down. I’m sure he has more important things to do than worry about your wounded pride.” I shrugged and followed the attendant, rejoicing in the fact that my husband was back to being contrary and his ailments were not life-threatening.

  “As soon as they patch me up, I’m out of here. I need to find that jolly fat man and figure out what his game is, and who that elf is.” Anger edged Mo’s voice. “Murders don’t happen in my town, and he’s not going to get away with it. If it hadn’t been for that old dog getting between me and Santa, I might have met the same end.”

  Thank goodness, no one had been able to catch the stray these past several weeks or I might be dealing with more than a cranky, superstitious husband.

  Mo grumbled all the way home about needing to get back to work. I ignored him. It was clear by his immobilized shoulder and the referral to a surgeon that Mo wasn’t going anywhere soon, much less on patrol. Pine Grove was now under the watchful eye of Mo’s remaining officers with help from the county sheriff’s department.

  I settled my husband into his recliner, handed him the remote, and fixed him a cup of hot chocolate before heading to the drugstore to fill his prescription for pain pills. On the way, I swung by Lizbeth’s to see how her trip to the vet had gone.

  When I arrived, I told her to grab her purse. “We have another mission.”

  “What gives,” she said after buckling her seat belt.

  “First, how’s Max?” I backed out of her driveway, careful not to hit Donny, who waved while he was dragging out the trash can for tomorrow’s pickup.

  “Who’s Max?” Lizbeth turned her head and quirked an eyebrow.

  “The dog. I’ve been calling him that for weeks, but until today he’s never paid me a bit of attention. Just eats the food I leave out and drains the water bowl.” I signaled a left at the end of Lizbeth’s street and turned onto Broadway.

  “Ha! I’ve been calling him Tooter. He has wicked gas. I was knocking snow off the patio furniture one day last week and kept smelling something rank. I went to investigate and found him sound asleep under the back steps and tooting like he was in the horn section of the orchestra.” Lizbeth adjusted the vent. “He’s going to be fine, but he’s got an old wound on his back leg, and the vet said it’s infected. Started him on a round of antibiotics and found a foster home willing to take him in.” She turned in her seat and looked directly at me. “Now, what’s this mission?”

  “I have to pick up a prescription for Mo, and the drugstore happens to be near the donation box, and I thought—”

  Lizbeth laughed. “You thought we’d go by and do a little snooping. I like how you think.”

  Lizbeth and I had been friends for so long, we never questioned one another; we just went along with the plan. The running joke in our families was that we were twins who’d been separated at birth and had been reunited in grade school. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have for a sister.

  “Indeed. With Mo out of commission, the department is stretched to the limit. We can’t afford to lose all those donations. Let’s swing by and empty the box on our way. If we happen to come across some tiny piece of evidence, so be it,” I said.

  When we turned in to the parking lot and saw a flatbed truck loading up the bin, I wanted to scream at them to stop. The bin, minus the dead elf, was wrapped in crime scene tape. The deputy had gone a little overboard. He’d practically used a whole roll of the stuff. And people wondered why the county was over budget.

  “Now what?” Lizbeth asked.

  I cut the engine and pondered the situation. Before I could come up with a solution, Deputy Gordy Strange sauntered over and knocked on my window. I rolled it down, noticing his right hand had a heavy-duty bandage wrapped around it.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Chief. What are you doing here?” he asked around the toothpick in his mouth.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll let me collect the donations before you haul the bin away?” I knew the answer before I asked.

  The deputy shoved his sunglasses up onto his shiny bald head. “No ma’am. You do remember there was a body in that bin? It and everything in it is evidence. Down to the last little action figure.”

  Strange had worked for Mo on the Pine Grove Police Department several years ago. When Mo got word about Strange’s corrupt side business, Mo allowed him to resign so as not to embarrass the Strange family. Arnie Strange, Gordy’s dad, was the president of the local bank and the nicest man on the planet. The Gaston County Sheriff’s Department, desperate for deputies, hired Gordy before the ink was dry on his resignation papers.

  “How soon before the donations will be released?” I asked.

  Gordy rolled the toothpick around, stared off into the distance like he was in deep thought, then laughed. “If I was a betting man—” He stopped abruptly, and we both knew why.

  That was why Mo asked him to leave. Strange was bookmaking, and I don’t mean printing novels. He took sports bets on local high school teams. Rumor was Strange worked for Lazy Lou. Lou owned the Double L Café in Pine Grove and happened to be my stepfather. Small town.

  Strange was dumb enough to get caught shaking down some of the people who had placed bets and lost, but Mo let him off, hoping eventually to make a case against Lou.

  Strange cleared his throat. “They’ll be tagged into evidence.”

  “Seriously?” I looked at Lizbeth. “Well, this adds a new wrinkle.”

  Lizbeth shrugged.

  “Go on,” Strange said. “Get out of here. I got work to do. I don’t have time for socializing.”

  “What’s up with your hand?” I asked. “Looks pretty nasty.”

  “None of your business. Now get out of here.”

  I might have muttered a bad word.

  “Leave before I arrest you for vagrancy.” Strange slapped my car door with his other hand.

  This time I did not mutter or stutter. I slung a profanity at him and rolled my window up.

  “Don’t you even think about squealing tires out of here,” Lizbeth said. “He’s itching to get back at Mo, and you and your potty-mouth are in his sights.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” I put the car in gear and headed toward the drugstore.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, I beat Mo to the newspaper. Didn’t hurt that he was struggling to get out of bed. I felt bad leaving him flailing, but I wanted to see if they had identified the elf or the Santa who dumped him there. Mo would not rest until this case was solved, making my life miserable in the meantime.

  I glanced at the paper and found no mention of the victim’s name, but the murder did make the front-page headline—Murder suspected in Pine Grove. The trash truck pulled to a halt three houses away. I dropped the paper in our can, rolled it to the curb, and scurried back to the house. I needed to keep Mo from worrying about the case and keep him focused on his recovery.

  Mo, bless his heart, had managed to get himself out of bed and into the bathroom, no thanks to me.

  “You doing okay, honey?” I called through the door.

  “No,” he shouted. “How am I supposed to take a shower with this fool sling?”

  “Want me to get something to wrap your arm in?” I asked.

  Mo snickered. “How about you come in here with me?”

  “Go on with yourself,” I said. “I’ll get you a trash bag and some duct tape.”

  “That might come in handy,” he teased.

  While I was rooting around in the pantry looking for the roll of trash bags, the phone rang. I tripped over my feet getting to it and managed to snatch it on the third ring.

  “What took so long
?” Lizbeth said.

  I rubbed my shin with one hand while I held the phone to my ear with the other. I explained the shower situation to Lizbeth, and she laughed. Leaning against the kitchen sink, I took a break from my search and watched a trio of cardinals flit around the feeder Mo had hung in the pine tree near our patio.

  “Trash bag,” Lizbeth said.

  “Already thought of that,” I said. “Great minds and all.”

  “Did you catch the news this morning?”

  “I grabbed the newspaper but haven’t turned on the TV. Why?” A splotch of black and red beneath the pine tree near the corner of our garage caught my attention.

  “They identified the elf. Billy Craighoff.”

  I recognized the name. “He works for Lazy Lou, right?”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “Mo’s not going to like this one bit.” One more reason for me to keep him from listening to the news and reading the newspaper. “Do me a favor and tell Donny not to mention any of this to Mo?”

  “Will do,” Lizbeth said.

  I opened the door and stepped outside, intrigued by the familiar colors I’d seen. When I got closer, two brown eyes rolled open, followed by a momentary tail wag, and like a shot he was gone. “I thought you said Max went to a foster home,” I said.

  “He did. Or will be. The vet kept him overnight and said the foster family was picking him up this morning.” Lizbeth made a yawning sound. “Why?”

  “Unless I’m seeing things, he’s in my back yard.” I walked back to the pantry and found the bag of dog food I’d hidden from Mo. He’d blow a cork if he knew I’d been feeding the stray. Judging by the dog’s size, I wasn’t the only one. I scooped out a cup of kibble, put it in a cereal bowl, and carried it outside. Max was nowhere in sight.

  “If it is him, they’ll never catch him,” Lizbeth said.

  “We need to do something. Didn’t you say the vet put him on an antibiotic for an infection?” I put the bowl down at the edge of the tree, out of eyesight from our kitchen window. What Mo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “I can call the vet and let them know where he is.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll stop by when I go out later.” I kicked the snow off my shoes and shut the back door.

  “Mattie, what’s taking you so long?” Mo yelled.

  “Oops, I gotta go. Mo’s waiting for me.” I set the phone down, grabbed a trash bag, and headed for the bathroom.

  Mo fell asleep in his recliner after lunch, so I used the time to my advantage. He had grumbled about the missing newspaper, so I agreed to pick one up if he’d promise to take it easy. He’d been pacing the floor all morning, calling the sheriff for updates. Thankfully the sheriff had yet to answer.

  My first task when I got in the car was to call the sheriff.

  “Sheriff Blank,” he answered.

  “Jason, it’s Mattie Modesky.”

  “Hey, Mattie, how’s the chief doing?” Jason said.

  “That’s why I’m calling. He busted up his shoulder. Looks like he’ll have to have surgery. In the meantime, he’s worrying himself to a frazzle about the murder. I need a favor.” I buckled my seat belt and started the car.

  “Name it,” he said. “He’s been calling me all morning.”

  “Mo’s going nuts and will probably drive you crazy wanting information. This is Pine Grove’s first murder, and he’s taking it personally. Please, for the love of Pete, don’t let him get involved. Tim’s out a couple of days. Megan delivered the baby early and until her parents get here, he’s off work. Mo will be on your back for information. He’s on pain medication, can’t drive, and needs to stay as inactive as possible until surgery’s over. Even after that he’s gonna need time to recover. If I don’t get a handle on it now, I’ll never keep him still.”

  “Not to worry. I’ll put him on ignore until Tim gets back.” Jason chuckled. “You know this will land me on his crap list, don’t you? He’ll hate having my department take over the investigation.”

  “It can’t be helped. He’ll get over it. Find out who killed Billy Craighoff and why. The sooner, the better.” I disconnected and backed out of the driveway.

  At the vet’s office, the receptionist told me Max had escaped when a tech opened the kennel to give him his medicine. When an assistant went out back to accept a delivery, Max sailed right out the door. That wasn’t hard to believe considering he’d been on the run for weeks. He’d never been caught until he’d had the wind knocked out of him pushing Mo off the loading dock.

  I didn’t have faith in anyone catching him anytime soon, but I knew he needed the antibiotics. I made a deal with the vet that if he’d give me the pills, I’d try to make friends with Max by feeding him little pieces of hot dog laced with the antibiotic. Eventually, if I could get close enough to snap a leash on, I’d bring him back for the foster family. In addition to the pills, the vet gave me a leash.

  My next stop found me at the Double L Café, home of the best chili since my mama made her final mouth-watering pot last year. She’d given me the dang recipe, but I couldn’t get it right. Lazy Lou was a sneak and a scoundrel, but he knew how to make a mean pot of chili. Yeah, the chili was my mom’s recipe, and Lou had it down to an art.

  Lou and I had a love-hate relationship. He’d been married to my mom since I was twelve and worshiped her. It almost killed him when she died. But his shady dealings had always worried me. Fortunately, he had kept his personal life personal, and his “business” transactions were dealt with away from home and away from the café. At least while my mom was alive.

  Lou would be eighty-eight his next birthday and didn’t look a day over seventy. He still worked out at the gym, golfed when the weather cooperated, and frequented a local tanning booth. I swore he’d had cosmetic surgery, but he claimed his lack of wrinkles came from good genes and a monthly facial down at Evelyn’s Spa and Boutique.

  The little bell over the door jingled when I walked in. I spotted Lou on a stool at the counter reading the newspaper. He had pulled out my mom’s decorations and had the Double L looking all festive. Lights wrapped in garlands of greenery twinkled around the room. My eyes watered when I saw Mom’s nativity in its usual place under the artificial tree in the corner. It reminded me of all our Christmases together and all the Christmases I’d spend without her.

  Lou looked up when he heard me come in.

  “Hey, Sis.” Lou put the paper down and stood to greet me. He’d called me Sis from the day my mother first introduced us. I hadn’t a clue why.

  “Morning Lou. You’ve got the place all decked out for the holidays.” I pecked him on the cheek, noticing for the first time that he looked his age. In fact, he looked older than his age. His color was off, and he was thinner than normal. “You okay?”

  Lou rubbed his chest. “Just a bit of heartburn. I think I got a hiatal hernia or something.”

  “You been to a doctor?” I asked.

  He scoffed. “Pfft! What’s he gonna tell me? I’ll tell you what. He’s gonna tell me to lay off the alcohol, quit smoking, and stop the spicy food. I’d rather be dead. At least I’d be with Lorraine again.”

  “Well, you’ll just get your wish if you don’t take care of yourself,” I scolded. I followed him around the counter and made myself a hot tea. “Can I get a couple of chilis to go?” I hollered into the pass-through into the kitchen.

  “Sure thing,” answered Mezo, the cook.

  “How’s Mo?” Lou took my cup and carried it to his booth in the corner. “Heard he took a nasty spill.”

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I blew across the top of my tea and watched Lou.

  “Just what I heard through the rumor mill.” Lou pulled two antacids from his pocket and swallowed without chewing.

  “Right,” I said. “And Billy Craighoff showing up in that bin dead is a coincidence.”

  “I don’t got nothing to do with that. I promised your ma on her deathbed that I’d stay o
n the straight and narrow. In all the years we were married, I never once lied to her. And I’m not lying to you now.” Lou leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “Honest. I’m not running book anymore. I closed up shop when Lorraine died. Billy went to work for Irv Blessing, and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “You know Mo thinks you’re involved,” I said.

  “I know, and I’ll admit that it hurts. His daddy and I got off on the wrong foot. I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. But my money is on Irv or his sidekick deputy.”

  Mezo brought out a sack and placed it on the table. “I added a couple slices of my coconut cake. Give the chief my best.”

  When Mezo left, I said, “What sidekick?”

  “Gordy Strange.”

  “I thought he worked for you,” I said.

  “Negative. I wouldn’t have the fool. He’s not too bright. But Irv, on the other hand . . .” Lou laughed then grimaced and rubbed his chest.

  “Does the whole town already know about Mo?”

  Lou nodded. “Yeah. That new alderwoman, what’s her name, Janine Lassiter? She was in this morning bad-mouthing him. She’s pushing an agenda to drive Mo out of office and bring some investigator in from the city. Talk is she’s in bed with the guy. Literally.”

  “An investigator?” My mind seized what Cora had said about Janine wanting a report on police department activities. She had an agenda for wanting Mo to retire. “Mo will blow a cork. The town won’t stand for it. Will they?”

  Before Lou could answer, my cell vibrated. The display showed my home number. “Uh-oh, gotta take this,” I said.

  I answered and stepped outside. “Hey, Mo. How was the nap?”

  “I’m stiff as a board and about half as grouchy,” Mo said. “The surgeon’s office called, said they can see me tomorrow at nine. Surgery the following day. I’ll have to stay overnight but should be released Christmas Eve morning if everything goes okay.”

  The breeze picked up, and I turned my back to keep from getting blasted. When I did, I noticed Max crouching in the alley next to the Double L. I wondered if Mezo had been feeding him too.