Three Woofs for the Dead, White and Blue
Page 7
“Kim’s husband is away somewhere for business, or so his secretary says, so they haven’t been able to officially identify the body. I say they should ask that toy boy of hers. They were up to hanky panky last night, I’m sure of it. Right John?”
Her husband’s cheeks blushed. “She’s always been one for hanky panky.”
“Everyone knows that, just look at the dress she was wearing. Those stars barely covered her,” Jean said, pointing to the remnants of the society pages. “Anyway, Kelly Nelson said that her son-in-law told her that Kim snatched that poor decorator woman’s ticket and gave it to her young lover so they could canoodle on that fancy boat all night.”
“She must have been sexhausted,” John said, cracking up at his own joke. “Or, maybe she died of lover failure.”
Olivia and her dog rescued Claire from the awkward conversation. She bought a bacon and cheese ice cream for Liberty. “Did you see the paper today?”
“No, was there news about Kim in it?” Claire asked.
Olivia looked puzzled. “Kim who?”
“Didn’t you hear? Kim Bancroft died.”
“Oh my God, no. What happened?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. She seemed perfectly healthy last night.”
“I was so awful to her last time I saw her,” Olivia admitted. “It was Sunday, when we were setting up our tents. I thanked her for supporting the bee proposition, but she said she had no intention of voting for it. I was so mad! I called her the most terrible names.”
“Being in public office, she probably heard much worse.”
“I lost it. After Kyle, Nato and I supported her as a green candidate, she promised she would always vote ecologically. I should have known not to trust her, considering her relationship with my ex.”
“Maybe it will pass after all,” Claire said. “I hear the meeting is going ahead as planned tonight.”
“I hope so. Bees are dying out at such an alarming rate. Studies show that home beekeeping will have a positive impact, despite what John says. When Nato and I visited his brother in Kagawa Prefecture, we got to tour his hives and I learned all about it.” Olivia said.
The Boston terrier picked up his empty cup and sat up on his hind legs. Claire told the showman, “It’s up to your mom if you can have another.”
“Oh, go ahead, despite his bad behavior yesterday. That’s what I came to tell you. The paper ran the photo of Berty running amok with Mike’s pinwheel on the front page today.” She pulled up the digital version on her phone to show Claire.
“Wow, that picture is perfect,” Claire said. “No wonder Bob ran it in front. Liberty looks adorable, very patriotic.”
“I was mortified when the reporter asked me for a comment. Mike was glaring at me the entire time.”
“Whoever heard of an official parade pinwheel, anyway?” Claire asked. “The town never had such a tradition before his reign.”
“Well, at least I got a chance to put in a plug for the Boston rescue group at your rescue fair.”
Claire thanked Olivia and handed her a few more treats. The next customers stepped up, asking about the yam yummies. Olivia gave a testimonial, seconded by the now-famous Boston terrier, before leaving. More people stopped by, reducing Claire’s stock quickly. The last ice cream cups went to a pair of doxies, prompting her to write “sold out” across the list of flavors.
“What do you mean you’re out of ice cream?” a voice heckled. “How can you be out of ice cream?”
“I’m sorry, mam,” Claire said, turning to find Marti. “Am I glad to see you! I’ll be right back” She threw her apron and money belt to her friend and ran to the portable toilets. Marti sold three packages of cheesy crunchy mix and explained the advantage of the Posh Pup’s treats while looking for grain-free cookies for a new customer. Claire helped the next customers while Marti finished with another, telling the man and his lonely pug about the upcoming adoption shows.
“Thank you,” Claire said, once there was a lull. “I thought I was going to burst!”
“I thought I was busy with clients today. Has it been like this all day?”
“It’s been so busy, I almost forgot what happened.” She whispered the news to Marti as the next customers approached.
Marti mouthed OMG and pulled out her phone to call Bob for details. Getting his voicemail, she returned to Claire’s stand just as Helen walked up and sneezed.
“I wanted to see how the cart worked out,” Helen said. “You’re the first one to use it at the market.”
“It’s fantastic!” Claire said. “It kept everything frozen solid, and the novelty drew in tons of customers. I sold out of ice cream first.”
“Damn! I wanted to pick up some for Pixie. I tried to get here earlier, but I just finished my last delivery run.” She pulled out another tissue from her Coach bag and sneezed again. “These allergies are worse than ever this year.”
“You should pick up some local honey. It will help you build up allergens. It should help restore your energy too.” She pointed across the way and shouted to the beekeeper. “Kyle, will you be Helen’s knight in shining armor?”
Helen waved to Kyle and smiled. “I’ll be over in a minute, honey.” She laughed at her pun, then turned back to Claire. “Will you have ice cream restocked in time for your soft opening?”
“Of course,” Claire said. “I’ll put some cups aside for Pixie. Be sure to tell her I’m making poochie pizza too.”
A young woman, wearing a long gold tank, Versace leggings and tall red Louboutins, stopped suddenly. She bowed her head towards her Birkin tote. “Did you hear that, Georgie-Porgie? Poochie pizza!” A tiny set of black and tan ears arose from the bag. Her husband, dressed more casually, in Armani slouch pants and top, pulled out a crisp fifty-dollar bill to pay for two slices.
“Little Georgie is adorable,” Claire said to the teacup Yorkie, who was squirming out of the bag. “I’m afraid I don’t have any here, but we’ll have it at my grand opening party Friday. Here’s a flyer with the details.”
“Oh, but my little prince doesn’t mingle with common dogs,” she pouted. “JayJay, tell her.”
“Do you deliver?” her husband asked. “Kirstie and I just bought a home on the lake and don’t know the town very well.”
“We offer VIP shopping for our exclusive clients,” Marti said. “Of course, there’s a minimum purchase requirement plus twenty-five percent upcharge for this exclusive experience, but so worth it. Here’s our card, with the special code written on the back.”
Kirstie provided contact details for Mr. and Mrs. Sanjay Patel, excited to set up a date.
Marti whispered, “We don’t hand these out to just anyone, but I can tell that little Georgie is a royal fashionista.”
As the pair turned to leave, Helen took the opportunity to walk with them, advising them of her services for all their party needs.
“VIP Shopping?” Claire asked Marti.
“I know, I’m a genius! It just came to me,” Marti said, making a note of the details on her phone. “Maybe we can do VIP adoption viewings too, with a minimum donation requirement for the shelter.”
“It is a brilliant idea, though I definitely wouldn’t have had the nerve to charge twenty-five percent extra.”
“The only house that has been sold recently is the mansion next to Lydia’s, which makes her estate look like a gatehouse. It was listed at eighteen million,” Marti said. “Maybe I should have said a fifty percent upcharge. Well, you can always increase it for the Christmas peak. Definitely start the holiday minimum at five hundred dollars.” The marketing plans were interrupted by her phone, playing “Hip to Be Square”.
“Bob?” Claire guessed, hearing the Huey Lewis and the News classic song.
“Maybe he has some information about Kim. I’ll get dinner and meet you at your house around seven, ok?” She walked to a private area of the street to take the call.
By the time Claire finished with her last customer, the few remaining vendors packed up
their stands. She had hoped to talk with the market volunteers to learn what happened to Kim, but they were all gone. Losing someone so vital to natural causes seemed inconceivable, but the alternatives were worse to consider. A cool breeze swept up from the lake, signaling a storm wasn’t far behind.
Claire ran the cart back and was greeted by a spectacular grand opening window display. She called the designer to thank her, but barely recognized the voice that answered.
“Traci? Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Well, pretty good, anyway. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m so sorry,” Claire said. “I forgot you were on the committee with Kim. What a shock this must have been for you. Were you close?”
“No, not really. We only knew each other socially.”
“I didn’t know her very well myself, though we did talk when I dropped everything off Sunday. She was so full of life. I guess it goes to show you should live every day to the fullest.”
“Yes, she certainly did that,” Traci said.
“Well, I won’t keep you. I was calling to thank you for the window. It’s fantastic.”
“I’m glad you like it. Do you think you’ll need anything else before the grand opening? I told Barbara I would stop by tomorrow, but I think I might take a spa day, if you’re all set.”
“Yes, everything is perfect,” Claire said. “Enjoy your retreat, and I’ll see you Friday.”
Feeling the weight of the day herself, Claire decided to lock up for the night and go home before the rain started. Baron was the first to greet her, with the two cats coming around when they heard the can opener. Claire took Baron for a short run around the neighborhood, breathing in the quiet normalcy. Marti honked as she drove past the pair and pulled into the driveway. When she lowered her window, two furry heads clamored to see their friend.
Above the barking, Marti shouted “I’ve got the scoop, if I can get a word in edgewise.”
“I’ll let them run around in back to burn off their energy.”
Marti collected the bag of Thai takeaway and began setting up dinner on the table. The cats jumped up to investigate, but turned away in unison, deeming the food unworthy of their attention.
“Snobs,” Marti said. The dogs came in and ran to the table.
“It smells delicious to me,” Claire said. The canine crowd agreed, working their best begging poses. “Not a chance. This is way too spicy,” she told the trio.
“I’ll get them some snacks and water. You go change out of those sweaty clothes.” Marti held her nose to emphasize the point.
The dogs were crunching the remaining flag cookies as Claire returned to a table set with tom yum soup, summer rolls, Massaman curry, and pad Thai. Two tall cups of mango lassi stood ready to fight the burn.
“Spill,” Claire said. “What did Bob have to say?”
“Not yet. We have to get your new VIP program ironed out before the grand opening. I printed up some suggestions, leaving the marketing details to you. If we get started on Kim, we’ll never get this done.”
Claire read through the two pages of copy as she ate, crossing out and rewriting lines. “This is perfect. Thank you!”
“You remind me of Ms. Frederickson, making edits to our articles minutes before the print deadline.”
“Journalism Club served us well,” Claire said. “This is going to be great, and with half the fees being donated to the rescue groups, it doesn’t sound pretentious at all.”
“I told you,” Marti gloated. “Ok, here’s the scoop. There’s nothing official yet, except confirmation that there will be an autopsy. Bob said the police are already making inquiries.”
“So, it is a suspicious death. I knew she was too healthy to just keel over,” Claire said. “Do they have a suspect? Or do they think it might be some kind of accident? That group was pretty drunk before they even got on the booze cruise.”
“Bob’s source said the body was found in the locked stateroom…”
“A real-life locked room mystery?” Claire’s eyes glistened.
“Not this time. The lock was a push-button type, so anyone could lock the door on the way in or out. If it was murder, or even an accidental death, the killer might have thought the locked door would make it look like a natural death to avoid investigation.”
“Amateur,” Claire scoffed. “He, or she, should have at least left a suicide note.”
“I don’t think there was one. Bob talked with the cleaner who found the body, but she was pretty shaken. During the interview, she got a call from the charter company telling her not to talk to the media. Bob had to promise not to print what she said, which wasn’t much anyway.”
“How awful for her. Fictional deaths are one thing, but to witness a dead body in real life. I can’t imagine.”
“She thought it was another passed-out passenger, not an uncommon occurrence, apparently,” Marti said. “After cleaning and vacuuming didn’t cause Kim to stir, the cleaner tried shaking her shoulder. As soon as she felt the icy skin, she shrieked and ran out of the room.”
“Did she mention seeing any blood or obvious cause of death?”
“Bob said she thought she smelled almonds…”
“Cyanide!”
“Maybe, but she said that could have been the new organic cleaner they were using.” Marti stopped to read a text from Bob with an update that he was tracking down details from a source in the police department.
“I’m surprised Bob still has a friend there,” Claire said. “Chief Pete makes it pretty obvious he hates the press.”
“I have a suspicion it’s Betty Jones. You should have seen her drooling over Bob at the police department’s holiday ball. Mind you, he does look pretty good in a tux.”
“You better stake your claim against Boom-Boom Betty.”
“Will you give it up? I’ve told you since high school that he’s too good of a friend to date,” Marti said. “Anyway, what about Kim’s death? Do you really think it could be murder?”
“Probably not. At least I hope not. It’s more likely to be drugs, or maybe the results of a Botox party gone wrong.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. Bob seems to be leaning towards foul play, but then a murder would be much better for paper sales. The North Haven News needs all the revenue it can get.”
“Poor Kim,” Claire said. “The whole town will be exploding in rumors regardless of how she died.”
“And poor Ken will have to hear it all, plus being the prime suspect,” Marti said.
“You’re right, though even Chief Pete must realize Ken could never hurt anyone. Besides, if it was poisoning, that’s traditionally considered a woman’s killing method and…” Claire froze. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered Saturday night’s conversation. “Oh my God, I was just talking about poisoning someone with lemonade. You don’t think it was someone who was there with us, do you?”
“We don’t even know for sure if Kim was murdered, let alone how. Let’s not borrow worry from the future, as my anger therapist says,” Marti said, pulling out her phone to look up poisons.
The pair read information about cyanide, confirming that it could kill very quickly given an adequate dose. The poison could be extracted from fruits such as apples, cherries and peaches, and was found in several types of manufacturing industries, pharmaceuticals, pest control products, and even in cigarette smoke. Claire reasoned that there would be plenty of potential suspects given the popularity of the Fourth Fest, taking the heat off Ken. Another chill ran down Claire’s spine as she realized that also meant an unknown murderer was lurking in her town.
Chapter 7
Wednesday, July 6th
An unfamiliar van waited for Claire in the loading zone. Baron wagged his tail when he recognized Benji from last week’s delivery of rawhide chews and jerky delights.
“Sorry about this Ms. Noble,” he said. “Our other freezer truck broke down, so we had to combine deliveries. Dispatch said they left a message.”
She persuaded her partner to leave the seductively scented boxes by bringing out a large yam yummy. He ran alongside Claire up the stairs and settled himself on the sofa for his chewy snack. As Claire dashed back down the stairs, she noticed a middle-aged couple with two dogs standing at the front door. All four noses pressed against the window. Claire waved, and called to Benji that she would be right with him.
“Hello,” Claire said, opening the door slightly. “Can I help you?”
“What’s going on in here?” the woman asked, peering over Claire’s shoulder for a better look.
“We saw the sign and had to stop,” the man explained. His pastel plaid polo matched his wife’s shorts, which matched their dogs’ leashes. “We never miss a chance to spoil our doggies.”
“You’re a bit early,” Claire said. “I would invite you in, but the village won’t allow customers until we’re officially open.”
“He’s in there,” the woman objected. “Is that a freezer? What do you need a freezer for?”
“He’s delivering our raw food. It comes in frozen patties or nuggets,” Claire explained. “Would you like a sample?”
The woman scrunched up her face, prompting Claire to offer her a sample of cookies instead.
“Thank you,” the man said, “but, Peter and Wendy are on grain-free diets.”
“No problem. Any allergies?”
The couple shook their heads in unison, and Claire ran back to get a selection of grain-free treats. He pulled his wife back, as the two dogs waited patiently beside him. The couple thanked Claire for the samples and walked to the bench in front of the fountain, where their dogs devoured the cookies.
“Customers before you’re even open, that’s a good omen,” Benji said.
“It’s been like this since the sign went up. People are very curious.”
With the delivery completed, Claire locked the back door and let Baron run free in the shop. As he bounded around the display tables and cubes, Claire heated up a quiche pooch plate. She coated the kibble contraband in cheese sauce and placed the bowl on his mat in the office. Baron sniffed cautiously, but ate the full serving.