The officers came downstairs shortly after. Grant and Mac took a seat, both pulling out notepads and pens.
“Ms. Jenkins, explain to me what happened this morning. Just take me through it step by step,” Mac said, pen poised over his pad.
“Well. I arrived here around seven and Jill was already gone.”
“Does she make a habit of leaving town when she has guests?” Mac inquired.
“Well, no, but she was going to a conference and I often help out here. Anyway, I arrived around seven and let Roscoe out because I didn’t know what time Jill had left. I didn’t want to make him hold it for hours. Then I fed him his breakfast and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for myself and the guest. Heather. Her name was Heather.”
“Yes. What took you so long to check on Heather? I would have thought that you’d expect her for breakfast.”
“Check out isn’t until ten, and I had no idea whether she was a morning person or not. I kept her breakfast warm in the oven-oh! I should probably turn the oven off.” I jumped up and sprinted into the kitchen to shut off the oven.
“Sorry,” I apologized, as I returned. “Anyway, I didn’t want to disturb her if she was sleeping in.”
“Once you realized she wasn’t waking up, what did you do?” Mac asked.
“I went upstairs and knocked, loudly. I called her name and knocked again. Then I used my key and went in.”
“And you saw her on the floor?”
“No, not right away. I looked around and went straight into the bathroom. It was when I was coming back out that I saw her.”
“And you didn’t see anything odd? No one else in the B&B?” Grant put in.
I looked over at him. “No. I thought it was just me, Roscoe and Heather. Could the killer have been in here at the same time as me?” That was freaky.
“Actually, no. It seems that she’s been dead since late last night. The killer was probably gone. Does Jill leave the doors unlocked normally?” Mac asked.
“No. She locks up before she goes to bed. But there isn’t a rule about guests. The guest can have a guest and there isn’t anything stopping them from unlocking the front door.”
“Was the door locked this morning?”
I thought a little. “The knob was locked. The deadbolt wasn’t. It didn’t even strike me as odd. I guess I figured Jill had gone through the door for something.”
“Ok. Well, we may have more questions for you. We’ll definitely need to talk to Jill. We’ll be back later this evening.”
Mac and Grant got up from their seats. Grant gave me a half hug, shoulder squeeze as he left the room behind Mac. I walked them to the door and told them I’d call when Jill got home.
I looked back at Roscoe who just stared at me. Well. What a way to start a weekend.
Chapter Four
Since it was Friday, I still had dogs to walk at noon. Just because someone was murdered doesn’t mean the dogs could hold it. I texted my best friend, Ruby so she and her dog could meet me at the dog park when I walked Daisy.
Ruby Whit was a nurse practitioner for the Pine Forest Family Practice in town. Since it was only open until noon on Fridays, Ruby often met me with her dog at the dog park. She went to UNC with me to get her Bachelor’s of Nursing and then to Duke for her NP. She had curly brown hair that was almost as big as she was—she was short like me. She’s smart as a whip and funny to boot. Ruby and I had been friends since Kindergarten when Jill and I sat with her on the playground after some kids teased her for having big hair.
As I walked my first client, Snowball the Eskimo Spitz, I thought about this morning. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I had never seen a dead body before unless you count my grandfather who I saw in a casket during the wake when I was nine. It’s not exactly the same thing.
Who could have murdered that poor woman? She was a visitor of our town. Who even knew she was here?
What if the police think Jill did it? I know she couldn’t have done it, but who knows what the police will think. She was the only other person in Lavender Hills that night, unless Heather had a guest. There was a guest book in the front hall, but my guess is that if the killer planned on murdering someone, they wouldn’t sign their work.
I left Snowball in his house with a treat and some fresh water, telling him I’d see him Monday. I headed over to Daisy’s house. The Golden Retriever lived in a neighborhood that had its own dog park, so we walked over there for her to run and play for a while.
Ruby and Penny, her goldendoodle, were already there.
“Hey!” I called when I saw her.
“Oh. My. Gosh. Hannah! What the heck is going on?” Ruby’s eyes were wide. “I can’t take it in!”
“I know. It’s crazy. Jill is out of town and I find a dead body. I don’t even know what to do with that.”
Daisy and Penny sniffed each other and then zoomed around the park chasing each other. Thankfully, there weren’t any tiny dogs there to get trampled by their exuberant game of tag.
“Did you know her?” Ruby asked sitting on a bench to watch the dogs.
“No, she was a guest at the B&B. I hadn’t even met her. I guess Jill did.”
“Who killed her?”
“Well, I don’t know! How on earth would I know that?”
“I’m just asking! Nothing like this ever happened in Pine Forest.”
“I know it.” We chatted a little while longer and then parted ways.
By the time I brought Daisy home and walked Chuck and Davey, I was tired. I headed back to the B&B. Jill should be home soon, if she wasn’t already.
Jill’s mom, Tracey, and my mom are twins. They were pregnant at the same time because they did everything together. Jill and I were raised practically as sisters. They even lived on my parents’ street (and still do). Where I inherited our mothers’ red hair, height (5’0) and freckles but my father’s brown eyes, Jill inherited our mothers’ bright green eyes and her father’s blonde hair and height (5’8). I felt like a gnome next to her.
Jill’s Jeep was in the driveway, so I hurried inside. I flew through the front door and Jill, hearing the door slam, met me in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe this!” she cried. “What the hell? I don’t get it. Who could’ve killed her? She didn’t even live in this town.”
“I know,” I said. “I can’t believe it either. Have you talked to the police yet?”
“No, I just got here. I haven’t talked to anyone.”
“You haven’t called your mom?”
“No, jeez. They’ll just freak out. I guess they’ll find out soon enough.”
We sat down at the kitchen table, Jill pouring us both coffee from the pot she’d made. She was a serious coffee addict and drank it until early evening every day.
“What are we going to do?” Jill moaned.
“Well, we should call the police and let them know you’re home. They’ll have to ask you questions.”
“What if they think I did it?”
“Did you?” I asked.
“NO! Of course I didn’t!”
“Ok. I had to ask.” Jill glared at me. She stood up from the table and stared out the window.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just trying to lighten the mood. Do you want me to call the sheriff for you?”
“Sure,” she replied, sitting back down.
After I made the call, we sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. Roscoe sighed from over by the fireplace. I knew how he felt.
Ten minutes later, the sheriff arrived with his deputy in tow. They came into the kitchen where we were seated.
“Have a seat,” Jill said. Mac and Grant took seats around the table. The kitchen was an informal eating area, more for friends, family or police officers questioning you about a murder. There was also a formal dining room with a table that sat twelve for the guests.
“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” Mac began.
“You’re telling me.” Jill shook her head. Roscoe came
to sit beside Jill, showing his support.
“How well did you know the deceased?” Mac asked.
“I didn’t really. She was a new guest, doing a bed and breakfast tour of the mountains. She was here for two nights. I’m sure you’ve already seen the file on the computer. All I know is her home address and credit card number.”
“Did she have any guests while she was here?” Mac asked.
“No. Although, I guess she must have. I certainly didn’t kill her. I didn’t see anyone though.” Jill shook her head to emphasize her point.
“Do you lock the doors at night?” Grant put in.
“Yes, always. I always lock up before bed. Though there isn’t anything stopping the guests from unlocking the door and letting someone in. I probably wouldn’t hear it on my side of the house.”
“You live through there?” Mac gestured toward the door at the far side of the kitchen.
“Yes, and I took care to soundproof really well so I wouldn’t be disturbed by my guests. I also sleep with a fan on at night. I wouldn’t hear anything.”
“Do you have security cameras or an alarm, anything?” Grant asked.
“No, this is Pine Forest. Nothing ever happens here.”
“It does now.” Mac said, grimly.
After the officers left, promising they’d update us if they find out any more information, Jill and I took our refreshed coffees into the sitting room in her apartment.
“I just can’t believe this is happening,” Jill said again. “It’s a total nightmare. Plus, and I know this makes me a terrible person, but how is this going to affect business?”
“It doesn’t make you a terrible person. You run a business. You have to think that way.”
“I feel like a terrible person.”
I shook my head. Jill always took things personally. It was one of the reasons her divorce was so hard on her. The fact that Adam was cheating mattered not at all to her. She took all of the blame anyway.
“Will you stay here tonight?” she asked tentatively. “I feel a little creeped out by the whole thing. I kind of don’t want to stay alone.”
“Sure, of course I’ll stay. I planned to anyway and I already have all my stuff.” I gestured to the spare room where my bag and other belongings were.
“Thanks.”
Jill and I had a somber dinner and we both retired to our rooms early.
Chapter Five
I laid in bed for an hour with my eyes wide open. I couldn’t stop a running loop in my head of the events of the day. I suppose it could also have been the caffeine. I just wasn’t used to multiple cups of coffee in the evening. Jill was probably snoring away already, Roscoe at her side. Chester kept me company in my room.
I grabbed my computer out of my bag and sat against the headboard. I figured I could do a little social media stalking while I was awake. I typed “Heather Bing” into the search bar on Facebook. I knew her home address was Charlotte, North Carolina, so I was able to narrow it down.
Bingo. I found her profile and matched her picture to what I remembered of her face. It appeared that she was a professor of Women’s Studies at UNC Charlotte. She cycled and supported the ASPCA. It didn’t appear that she was in a relationship at the time of her death.
I scrolled through her page, reading her posts and various comments. There was very little drama until I came to one picture, posted two weeks ago. It was a selfie of Heather in her bike helmet, captioned “Solo ride on the Greenway!” Several comments down, a Jessica Bing, wrote, “Now that you’ve dropped that dead weight, maybe you can come by the house sometime.” Heather didn’t respond to that.
I clicked over to Jessica’s page and confirmed what I suspected. She was Heather’s sister. Ok. So, Heather was in a relationship until sometime before two weeks ago and it appeared her family didn’t approve. Very interesting.
Maybe this man killed her in a jealous rage, “If I can’t have you no one can,” kind of thing. It was possible. I scrutinized her pictures more closely, but either she didn’t post any pictures of her boyfriend or she had removed every single one of them. I voted for the latter.
I clicked over to Instagram and looked her up on there, but her profile was set to private. That was kind of weird since her Facebook profile wasn’t. Maybe her Instagram life was secret. Maybe she was hiding something she didn’t want people to see. Ok. That was enough. I’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies.
I closed my laptop and laid back down, trying to get some sleep. Chester curled up on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Darn cat weighed like 18 pounds.
By the time morning rolled around, I think I’d gotten maybe four hours of sleep? Who knew. I tried to slap off my alarm which wasn’t working until I realized it was my phone. Mom. Oh no.
“Hello?”
“WHY IN THE WORLD DID I HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT MY DAUGHTER FINDING A DEAD BODY FROM MRS. FISHER AT THE YMCA?”
I held the phone away from my ear while she screeched down the line. When there was a break in the screeching, I brought the phone back to my ear. “Good morning to you too, Mom.”
“Don’t get sassy, missy. What is going on over there at that murder shack Jill calls a B&B?”
“It’s ok. It was a guest who got killed. I called the police, Jill came home. It’s handled. How did you already talk to Grant’s mom?”
“We both take 6 a.m. water aerobics at the Y.”
“Of course you do.”
“What I don’t understand is why neither of you called your mothers last night,” Mom said.
“Oh no. Did you call Jill’s mom?”
“Yes! And she was pretty shocked as well to have to hear it from me and not her own daughter.”
Oh jeez. “Mom, I have to go. We’ll come for dinner tonight, ok? We’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
I hung up and ran into the sitting room just as a shell-shocked Jill came out of her bedroom, clutching her cell phone, blonde hair in disarray around her head.
“She’s so loud. So loud. Need coffee.” Jill stumbled to the coffee maker. Our mothers made up for their diminutive size by being incredibly vociferous.
I let Roscoe out back and poured some kibble in his bowl. Chester meowed for his breakfast and I gave him his perfectly portioned packet of diet cat food.
“I may have told my mom that we’d be over for dinner tonight.” I winced.
“Oh, dear Lord, why?” Jill said as the coffee maker grumbled its concurrence on the counter.
“They want to know what happened. I figured we could tell them all at the same time.”
“I guess.”
“I did a little Facebook stalking last night,” I told Jill. “Turns out Heather was in a relationship that her family didn’t approve of.”
“Interesting,” Jill said.
“Maybe her boyfriend had something to do with it.”
“Did you find out who her boyfriend was?” Jill asked.
“No. She removed all trace of him. I guess it was an acrimonious breakup.”
Roscoe nudged the door open and came back inside. He went straight to his food bowl and chowed down.
“What are you up to today?” Jill asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t have any clients. I’ll probably veg out or go for a hike or something.”
Jill thought about that for a moment while she sipped her coffee. “I’m going to make muffins!” she announced. It was almost like that first hit of caffeine jolted her into action.
“Oh, what kind?” I asked.
“Chocolate chip. I feel like being decadent.”
We took our coffee cups into the kitchen where Jill got down the stainless-steel mixing bowl, flour, sugar, eggs, and other ingredients and retrieved the chocolate chips from the freezer. Roscoe and Chester followed us. They took their customary places in front of the fireplace.
“When are you going to be able to open the Green Room?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I assume Mac will tell us.” She started measuri
ng the ingredients into her mixing bowl. “Have you thought anymore about coming into business with me?”
“I have thought about it.”
“And?”
“I’m still thinking,” I told her. “It’s kind of a huge decision. I mean, buying in and not doing housesitting anymore. I am thinking about it though.” Jill nodded and started mixing her batter.
“I get it.” Jill lined her muffin tins and poured the batter into each cup. She popped them in the oven and set a timer.
“I’ll let you know soon.” I sipped my cooling coffee. I’d need at least one more cup to feel functional today but that was it. No coffee after twelve today.
There was a knock at the door. Jill and I looked at each other. It was only 8:30. I expected it to be Mac or Grant with some information for us. Jill went to the door and to my surprise, I heard a female voice.
“I know it’s early,” the voice said. “But do you have any vacancy for tonight? And maybe for a few days?”
“Sure. I have several rooms open,” I heard Jill say.
“Great! Can I rent one? I am thinking about moving to the area, so I wanted to stay for a few days and get to know the town, maybe check out some houses or apartments.” The voice got closer as they walked into the kitchen.
“Do you want some coffee…?” Jill asked.
“Leslie. Yes, please!” I looked up to see a lanky girl standing in the kitchen. She was at least 5’10 with long legs and brown hair. She had a gamine face framed by a pixie cut. She wore hiking shorts with a teal t-shirt and matching Chacos.
“This is my cousin, Hannah,” Jill said. “I’m hoping for her to come into business with me.”
“Awesome! Nice to meet you, Hannah.” Leslie shook my hand and took a seat at the table. Jill brought her a cup of coffee with a pitcher of cream and the sugar bowl. Leslie doctored her coffee and took a sip.
“Delicious. Starbucks has nothing on your coffee,” Leslie said, effusively.
“Oh, whatever,” Jill said laughing. “It’s just Maxwell House. I’d go broke if I tried to buy the good stuff with the amount of coffee I drink.”
The oven timer buzzed. Jill got up to take the steaming muffins out of the oven. The smell was heavenly.
Sleeping Dogs Lie Page 2