Another Hour to Kill

by Anita Higman

  “Mmm.” What was that? Did he say horses?

  “And the horses could wear those little purple plumes on their heads.”

  My eyes opened—wide. “What? That sounds like a circus.” Then I saw the mirth flashing in Max’s brown eyes. I gave him a teasing slug on the arm.

  He laughed. “But seriously, since the wedding is so large now, do you think we’ll need to move the date?”

  I sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. We don’t have enough time in a month to create this. . .” I wanted to say extravaganza, but settled on “event.” I pulled my long hair back in a scrunchy. “Well, how about a May wedding? That gives us plenty of time.” I offered him my finest conciliatory expression.

  “You really are flexible.”

  “You thought otherwise?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “No, but I know that crowds really aren’t your thing.”

  “They aren’t.” I shrugged. “But this is different.”

  “Bailey?” He frowned, cocking his head at me. “I think you’re just saying that because you love me.”

  “True. Marriage is give and take. This time I’m going to give.” I shook my finger at him. “But next time. . .”

  We strolled into the kitchen, arm in arm, and then settled on my one soft chair, with me sitting on Max’s lap.

  “Someday I’ve got to buy another big chair.”

  Max stared at me. “No, I like it just like this.”

  “When you look at me like that, I become like that soft Brie cheese you like. You know, easy to smooth over those crackers.”

  Max kissed the tip of my nose. “Every day that I come here and hold you, I’m amazed that I found you.”

  “Correction. I most definitely found you.” I took his hand and rested it against my cheek. Mmm. Life was good again. I leaned my head against his shoulder. The movement felt foreign to me. I’d never been the kind of girl who did a lot of dreamy stuff, but it felt good.

  The petite wedding plans I’d envisioned over the past few weeks had suddenly become plus-sized.

  Max took hold of my hands. “Come with me for a minute. I want us to look at the front of your house together.”

  “Did Woody G. and his crew just leave?” I looked at the clock on the entry table. “I guess I just missed him.”

  “No problem.” Max led me through the house and down my porch steps, never letting go of my hand.

  “You know, Woody has been so secretive lately. I never did know what he and his crew were up to today. . .working like fiends on something, I guess.”

  We headed down the path, through the iron gate, and out onto the street. Max covered my eyes as I turned around to face the house.

  “What’s going on?” I reached up to touch his fingers. “What are you hiding from me?”

  Max gently removed his hands from my eyes.

  As I gazed up at Volstead Manor, a little gasp escaped my mouth. Oh, wow. Guess I haven’t been outside today. “The tower. It’s spectacular.” The square turret had not only been refurbished and freshly painted, but Woody had included some expensive looking leaded glass on the tower windows. “He must have misunderstood me. I really wanted the leaded glass, but I told Woody I was going to use my extra money for redoing the inside.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s going to cost me a fortune.”

  “It’s no mistake.” Max smiled at me.

  In fact he had such a charming smile, I knew he was up to something. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s an early wedding present.”

  I gasped. “Really? For me?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Well, you’re the only woman I intend to marry.”

  “Max. I guess some women would want jewelry or French perfume, but leaded glass is. . .well, it’s perfect.” I kissed him, making sure he was aware of the level of my gratitude.

  When the kissing had subsided, we both stared up at the house again. It always stunned me. Volstead Manor could boast of three stories of wood and stone, a tower with a spire on the top, and Gothic windows of all things. What a place. With the added leaded glass, its adornment was complete as well as breathtaking.

  Max looked at me. “So, what are you thinking?”

  “You know, when I first arrived here. . .the house was lit with a full moon, and it sort of looked like a medieval terror. I remember fearing the house came with a dungeon. And a dragon.”

  Max chuckled.

  I let my gaze go over every angle of the house. Yes, indeed. The outside of the house had been restored to its original state—a somewhat ostentatious, but amazing citadel—a classic tribute to Gothic architecture. That is, thanks to Granny’s gift and Max’s generosity. I clasped my fingers together. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He gazed at me. “I like the way it lights up those beautiful gray eyes of yours.”

  We were silent for a moment. “I wish. . .Granny were alive to see this. It’d make her happy to see it. Even though she never lived here, I know this house was special to her.”

  Max seemed to consider my remarks, and then he turned his attention back to the house. “So, when will Woody G. start working on the inside?”

  “Still in the planning stage.” I shrugged. “It sure was a good thing Granny gave me enough money to stop work for a while, so I could renovate this place.” I looked away. “But lately I haven’t been very focused. Well, ever since the neighbor’s death.” The part I couldn’t quite tell Max was that B.J.’s death had given me nightmares and had distracted me from not only the restoration of Volstead Manor but the planning of our wedding.

  Max shuffled his feet. “So did anybody hear what the medical examiner came up with? I heard they released a report to the next of kin.”

  “Magnolia found out from his stepbrother that B.J. died of a heart attack. Mr. Ware did have some nitroglycerin tablets in his pocket. But he couldn’t get to them in time.”

  Max shook his head. “I hadn’t even been over to meet B.J. It all happened so fast. The man had barely moved in.”

  “It was odd.” I massaged my neck. “And I keep thinking that—”

  “Well, that’s certainly gotten you into trouble before.” He chuckled.

  I dismissed his patronizing words, knowing Max had never been one to condescend. “It’s just been nagging me. I can’t explain it. But I feel there’s more to the man’s death.”

  “What do you mean? You think B.J. Ware was murdered?”

  4 – A Blood-curdling Scream

  “Maybe.”

  “But how? I know you read a lot of mysteries.” Max smiled. “Actually, I think you’d eat them if they came flavored, but—”

  “I thought of that.” I tried to calm myself before I got “a tone” in my voice. I knew Max wouldn’t knowingly put me down. He wasn’t the type to indulge in it, and yet, his hesitation in taking me seriously made me feel defensive. “I wouldn’t entertain these thoughts just for fun.”

  “That’s true. You don’t have a capricious bone in your body.” He tilted his head. “Well, do you have some evidence?”

  Finally, we’re down to business. Now if I could just walk through the facts out loud I might be able to see a story take shape. “B.J. died of a heart attack, but he also hit his forehead on the edge of the closet door. . .which is what caused all the bleeding.”

  “Okay. I’m with you.” Max stuffed his hands in his back pockets.

  “But if the wound on his head came from the edge of the closet door, then I think it could mean he was headed toward the closet for some reason.”

  “Could mean that, Bailey, but not necessarily.” Max shook his head. “The poor man was having a heart attack. He could have easily staggered toward the closet door while he was trying to get at the pills in his pocket.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” That certainly had crossed my mind.

  “Maybe I’m not following you. What does it matter if B.J. was headed to the closet?”

  “Because there was a gun
in his entry closet.” I crossed my arms. “A 12-gauge shotgun to be exact.”

  “Hmm.” Max pulled back in surprise. “How did you know that?”

  “The day I found the body, I saw the gun. The closet door was open a little. I’m sure the police saw it.”

  “It is curious.” Max took a deep breath. “But still, what does it prove?”

  “Nothing by itself. But while B.J. was having a heart attack, wouldn’t he be desperate to get at those pills? I mean if it were a matter of life and death, wouldn’t he be so occupied with reaching in his pocket that he wouldn’t have time to head toward the closet and open the door?”

  Max waved at a neighbor down the street and then turned back to me. “Bottom line. I think you’re smart, and I think you’re good at figuring things out. But this time I also think you’re reaching.”

  I blew out a long breath.

  “I’m sorry. But I know you’d rather have my honesty than my syrupy compliance. Right?”

  “You know me well.” I gave his sleeve a tug.

  “I do.” He smiled and then his gaze seemed to drift to the other side of the street.

  Max was right. When said out loud, my facts were sounding as weak as skim milk. And yet.

  Max reached over to my mailbox, pulled out a wad of junk mail, and then handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” Apparently, he wanted the conversation to move on.

  “All right,” Max said more loudly than I expected. “Even if. . .I’m saying if B.J. was headed toward the closet to get the gun instead of his bottle of pills, what does that say? You’re obviously thinking he was being threatened in some way. Right?”

  I gave him a slow nod, trying to convince myself as well. “Yes.”

  He leaned down to pet a stray black cat that had wandered up to cuddle with his leg. The cat purred as Max stroked its ears. “I still think you’re making too many assumptions.”

  I glanced over at Mr. Ware’s house. Max followed my gaze. Silence gathered between us. “I wonder who will inherit his house. . .now that B.J. is dead. Do you think it’ll go to his stepbrother?”

  “Yes. Some of us met him yesterday. He said he was moving in right away. And it sounded like the two stepbrothers had been close. So, if you’re itching to accuse our new neighbor of murder, you should let that idea rest in peace.” Max tilted his head and grinned.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You make me seem so mercenary.”

  “Not at all. Meddling, perhaps. But definitely not mercenary.”

  I had to think on that one. Was I indeed being more snoopy than concerned? I hoped not, but one’s inner motivation was always hard to nail down. Only God knew what I was really up to and why the medical examiner’s report was so hard to accept at face value. “So, what’s our new neighbor’s name?”

  “I think he said it was. . .Vlad Tepes.”

  “What a weird name.” Now that was going to bug me half the night. A draft of cool air whooshed downward, and I circled my arms around my waist. Then I noticed some blue-black tinged clouds building in the distance just behind B.J’s house. But perhaps the storm wouldn’t come this way.

  “Well, if it’s a crime to have an odd name, Dedra’s new boyfriend would be a desperado.” Max chuckled.

  “Dedra never mentioned a new boyfriend to me.” So, Dedra’s been a tightwad with her news too. And why would she tell Max and not me? “So, what’s Dedra’s boyfriend’s name? Can’t be that bad.”

  “Ozzie Keebly.”

  “Oh yeah. That’s pretty bad. Sounds like a brand of cookies.” We both laughed then—a much needed respite. Oh, Max. You’re always the putty, filling in my rough places. Maybe I should spend more time thinking about life and let go of what is dead.

  Max lifted my chin and caught my gaze. “You know, I admire the fact that truth and justice mean so much to you. But while you’re pondering the possibilities of murder, could you ponder our wedding too?”

  “Yes, I can.” I gave Max a repentant look.

  “I still can’t believe I got you to say yes to marrying me. I guess I’m always afraid you’ll change your mind.”

  “There’s no chance of that.”

  Max pulled me into an embrace.

  He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “I won’t allow anything or anyone to interfere with our plans.” I gave his collar a gentle pull. “I promise.”

  What would have been a sweet reconciliatory kiss was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream—the kind of bone-jarring, eye-twitching shriek that wakes up anyone dozing within half a mile.

  I glanced in the direction of the noise and saw Magnolia running towards us in her house shoes and tropical muumuu. She was bouncing with a pair of binoculars around her neck while waving a dishtowel like it was a flag in a hurricane.

  Oh, no. Had someone else died?

  5 – The Fire Breathing Kind

  Like the tide, Magnolia’s hollering had an ebb and flow to it. When the breeze took her voice away from us, it sounded like she was saying “ate floor.” What could she mean? Then when the gust of air switched back towards us, I could make out the word “gator.” She pointed at something, but before I could follow the direction of her finger, Max grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the middle of the cul-de-sac.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Magnolia approached us, out of breath.

  Max turned to her. “Did you call animal control?”

  “No,” Magnolia said, “I thought maybe I’d save your lives first.” She laughed, gasping for air, as she pulled a cell phone from the voluminous pockets on her dress. “Besides, this isn’t something for animal control to deal with. They said to call Texas Parks and Wildlife for this one.” She mashed a few buttons on her cell phone.

  “Would somebody fill me in here?”

  Max gently turned my head toward a sight my brain could not bring on board. An alligator—and surely the fire-breathing kind—sat, no, make that “reigned” on my front lawn as if we were trespassing in his domain. “Oh my,” I murmured to myself. “I’ve got a dinosaur-sized alligator on my lawn.” Guess Max and I were too busy yakking to notice. The thing remained deadly still, but his shrewd reptilian gaze pursued me.

  Magnolia reported the alligator on my front lawn, gave Parks and Wildlife my address, and then folded up her cell phone. “The game warden folks should be here soon.”

  “Thanks,” I said, never taking my eyes off the beast.

  Magnolia wiggled the phone. “My nephew will be so happy I used my birthday gift. Never had a reason to use it until now.” Her pleasant expression dropped cold when she turned back to the creature. “I was baking pies when I heard the call of the Northern mockingbird. When I ran outside, I saw it instead. Looks like these will come in handy.” She lifted the binoculars up to her eyes and seemed to study the gator for a bit. “Here, have a gander at that hide and those eyeballs.” Magnolia laced the binoculars around my neck. “It sure makes me wonder what God was thinking when he made such a beast.”

  After tucking the wad of junk mail under my arm, I lifted the binoculars up to my eyes and refocused the lenses. Oh my.

  “What does he look like up close?” Max asked.

  “Well, there’s no doubt what he has on his mind. . .annoyance, curiosity, and dinner. But not necessarily in that order.” Hmm. Maybe we should move back even farther. Like to Galveston.”

  Dedra came skipping down the sidewalk from next-door in her psychedelic overalls and flip-flops, her black eyes dancing with intrigue. “I heard this awful noise. . .sounded like a sick dog howling.”

  “That was me hollering.” Magnolia spread her hands over her bosom and arched an eyebrow.

  Dedra wrapped her arms around Magnolia’s folds. “Sorry. It was a delightful kind of sick dog howl, though.”

  Magnolia grinned and then pointed to the beast. “As you can see, a gator has made his way up from the bayou. That heavy rain we had last night must have made the waters rise enough to just float
it in.”

  “Wow, look at him,” Dedra said. “He’s splendid.”

  Magnolia grunted. “I don’t know how one of those hideous things can be splendid.”

  Dedra took a few nibbles from the dandelion flowers she was holding, a practice that shocked us only the first time we’d seen her munch them. “Bailey, how did he get up to your front lawn?”

  “Well, having an alligator-sized hole in my back fence doesn’t help.” And I would need to tell Woody G. to start shutting the gates.

  The alligator opened his mouth and let out a hissing sound. Almost as one harmonized movement, we all took one big step backwards.

  “Look,” Dedra hollered. “There’s a stray cat getting too close to the alligator.” She darted toward the cat, her curly hair flying behind her and her dandelions scattering along the way.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled.

  “Dedra.” Magnolia clapped her hands. “You come right back here!”

  Max shook his head, chasing after Dedra. When he caught her and she resisted, he swung her around to face him, and with one remarkably smooth movement, Max swept her up off the ground and over his shoulder.

  “I’ve got to save that kitty,” Dedra said bouncing along upside down.

  I stood there astonished at the sight. I had to tell my mouth to close. I had never seen Max with such caveman tendencies. Quite entertaining.

  After Max had hauled Dedra to the middle of the cul-de-sac, he sat her back down.

  “So why did you do that?” Dedra crossed her arms.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Max asked. “I’d rather the alligator eat the cat than you.”

  Dedra took in a deep breath. Her face lit up with a mixture of perplexity and a hint of something else. Amusement?

  “Mercy. What were you thinking? Nearly gave me a stroke.” Magnolia gave her a motherly huff of disapproval.

  Dedra gave Magnolia a hug. “Sorry for scaring you.”

  Magnolia softened. “Well, if the alligator doesn’t get us, I guess this sticky heat will.” She pulled out a dishtowel from one of her deep pockets and dabbed at the beads of perspiration on her forehead.