Chapter 27
“This is the first time he’s ever barked,” I said.
“I’m thrilled,” Janet said. “Get him off me.”
I closed my eyes and smiled.
“Now!” she said.
Don’t ask me why, but I crawled up the stairs to where Charlie had her pinned to the floor. “Good boy!” I told him.
He stopped barking and wagged his tail.
“Get. The dog. Off me.”
“Stay,” I said, and Charlie worked on making himself comfortable on top of Janet.
I stood up and yelped in pain, but somehow managed to limp over to the hallway light. Then—don’t ask me why—I pulled Charlie off our guest.
“Holy moly!” I knelt down and took a closer look. A gash on Janet’s forehead made the bruise on my shin seem minor. “How did that happen?”
“Son of a bitch.”
About then, the phone I had whacked her with began beeping near her feet. I reached over to turn it off, and that’s when I noticed the gun.
“Son of a bitch!” I said, and she informed me she needed ice. “Were you going to shoot me?”
“Ice!” she snapped.
“There’s no need to get all testy about it,” I snapped back.
Don’t ask me why, but damned if I didn’t limp down to the kitchen. I was wrapping ice cubes in a dish towel when Ross the Boss popped in through the kitchen window.
“Are those your pajamas?” he asked.“And why are your doors locked? Really inconvenient.” He made a show of brushing off his shoulders and glanced around. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
I refused to answer. Instead, I hobbled over to the window. Someone—Janet—had pushed in the screen. Moving very slowly in order to irritate Ross as much as humanly possible, I set the screen aside and shut the window.
“Do you even know who I am?” I asked.
“Cassie Baxter. Your picture was in the Herald. You’re even cuter in person.”
If the downstairs phone had been within reach, I swear I would have whacked him, too.
***
“Son of a bitch.” Janet groaned from above, and Ross flew through the living room and up the stairs.
I gathered up the ice pack and was about to follow, when something else occurred to me. I limped over and unlocked the front door. You know. In case Travis decided to join us.
“Give me that!” Ross grabbed the ice pack as I made it to the third floor and knelt beside his wife. “Baby Doll,” he cooed. “What happened?”
Janet whined. “This woman attacked me, Rossy. She and her stupid dog.” She waved a hand at Charlie, who wagged his tail and licked her outstretched fingers.
While the La Barges discussed whether or not Charlie should be put down, I sat down on a stair and re-evaluated the damage to my shin.
“Tell you what, Ross,” I said eventually. “Instead of picking on an innocent dog, why don’t you ask your wife why she’s in my bedroom.” I pulled down my pajama leg. “And while you’re at it, ask her about the gun lying at your feet.”
I stood up. “Come on, Charlie,” I said, and he walked across Janet to follow me.
***
“Where’s the wine?” I muttered to the empty kitchen. I tossed Charlie two of his most special treats and opened a bottle of red while Ross helped Janet down the stairs.
He placed the gun on the coffee table, just so, and then worked on getting his wife settled on the couch. Eventually, he noticed me. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Drinking. You want some?”
I meant it to be facetious, but Ross took me seriously and said something about preferring bourbon on the rocks.
Janet looked up from smoothing her hair and rearranging herself. “And while you’re serving, I’ll take a touch of sherry.”
Son! Of a bitch!
I slammed some glasses onto the counter. “No problem, Janet! I always serve sherry to my would-be assassins!!”
“There’s no need to get all testy,” Ross said. But when I threatened to hurl some stemware at him, he hustled over to help me.
I found the bourbon and shoved the bottle at him. “I’m out of ice,” I lied. I pointed to the ice pack his wife was dabbing at her temple, and then rummaged around in the same cupboard for my father’s cooking sherry.
Hoping it was the rankest stuff ever distilled by mankind, I poured Janet a big old glass, hobbled over, and handed it to her. “Enjoy!” I chirped.
Ross brought me my wine, and I found a rocking chair. He took a seat next to his wife, and Charlie also decided to stick close to Janet. He sat on her feet.
She tried kicking him away.
“Kick him again,” I said slowly. “And that gash on your forehead will be the least of your problems.”
She slammed the ice pack down on the coffee table and glared.
“That’s it!” I jumped up and threw the ice pack across the living room, past the kitchen counter, and into the sink.
Anger drastically improved my aim, but my left leg crumbled beneath me, and I plopped back down. “I want an explanation, or I’m calling Gabe Cleghorn. Now!” I screamed at her stupid, stupid, smirk.
Ross patted her knee. “What were you doing with the gun, Baby Doll?”
“Protecting our son, you idiot!” She pointed to me. “This creature was in Mallard Cove yesterday! Questioning poor Travis. At the crack of dawn!”
“It was 3 p.m.,” I said.
“Whateverrrr,” Janet said. “And today she went to Cars! Cars! Cars! pretending to buy a car.”
“A truck,” I corrected, and Ross asked what model I was interested in.
“A four-wheel drive is just the ticket around here,” he said. “I can help find you the pre-owned truck of your drea—”
“Shut up, Ross,” Janet and I said.
I addressed Janet. “You recognized me?”
“Duh. Travis showed me your picture in the Herald.”
“He showed me, too,” Ross said. “You’re cute as a button.”
“Shut up, Ross,” Janet and I said.
“Dr. Jones, my foot,” she spat.
“I have a PhD in Ancient History.”
She curled her lip. “It’s not like you’re a real doctor.”
I admired the gash on her forehead. “What were you doing at Cars! Cars! Cars!?” I asked.
Janet raised an eyebrow. “Unlike some people, I had a legitimate reason to be there. I was reminding everyone of Travis’s work schedule.” She recited the supposed schedule. “He worked at the showroom all day Monday, went to Mandy’s for a short time that evening to unwind, slept at our home in Montpelier, and went back to Cars! Cars! Cars! bright and early Tuesday morning.” She nodded. “My son was nowhere near Lake Bess or the supposed redhead. End of story.”
“Story’s a good word for it,” I said. “Are the people at Cars! Cars! Cars! actually going along with these lies?”
“If they want to keep their jobs, they are.”
“What about Mandy’s? Are they willing to lie for him?”
“Oh, please. It’s Travis’s word and my word against some drug-addicted barkeep.” She gestured to her husband. “Rossy will verify everything, too. Won’t you, Rossy?”
Rossy considered that. “May I speak now?” he asked me.
“Don’t try to sell me a car.”
***
He didn’t. But Ross did try to convince me he’d been happy about the attention the state troopers had given him all day. “We Vermonters are so fortunate to have such a fine, dedicated group of law-enforcement professionals—”
“Get on with it!” Janet snapped.
Ross cleared his throat and told us the state troopers had chased after him on the campaign trail, asking after Travis and his whereabouts.
“He was home with me,” Janet said. “The poor thing is a nervous wreck.”
“Good,” I said, and she informed me I’m a bitch.
Ross continued, “I didn’t know where he was, but I cut
my trip short to find out. When I got back to Montpelier I found him pacing a hole in the carpet. It took forever, but I finally got a semi-coherent story out of the stupid kid.”
“Our son is not stupid!”
“Shut up, Janet,” Ross and I said.
He smiled at me. “That’s when Travis showed me your picture.”
“Tell me I’m cute again, and I’ll shoot you.”
“Not before I do,” Janet mumbled.
Ross leaned forward and casually moved the gun out of his wife’s reach. “Travis told me where you live,” he said. “And he told me Janet was here ‘handling things.’”
“I’m only taking the necessary precautions,” she said.
“By shooting Cassie?” Ross was incredulous, but I told him it was actually worse than that.
I pointed to Charlie. “That dog would have died protecting me. And my father. Trust me, Rossy. If my father were home, your ‘Baby Doll’ would have had to go through him to get to me.”
“Necessary precautions,” Janet repeated, and Ross finally snapped.
“What the hell were you thinking, woman!” he screamed.
“Someone has to think!” she screamed back. “They found that ridiculous girl! We’ve got to get Cassie to change her story, or they’ll pin this on Travis!”
Ross watched his wife watch the gun. “Please tell me he didn’t kill that woman,” he said.
“Of course not. He was just having a little fun is all. You know Travis.”
“She’s dead!” Ross and I said.
“She was no one,” Janet said.
I was deciding what else to throw at her when Charlie started barking.
“Why are all the lights on?” my father called from the porch. “Whose cars are those in the drive?” He turned the doorknob. “Why is this door unlocked, girl? And that can’t be Char—”
Charlie rushed over.
“—lie.”
Chapter 28
“He barks,” I said as my father decided what exactly to stare aghast at.
He took in his dog, his daughter, and Ross the Boss, but somehow settled on Janet. On her forehead, to be specific. “What happened to you?” he asked, and her husband shot up.
He extended his hand. “Ross La Ba—”
“What the hell?” Dad asked. In case you haven’t quite caught on, he had just noticed the gun.
“It’s Janet’s,” I told him.
“Well I know it isn’t yours, girl! Where’s the wine?”
I stood up and limped toward the kitchen, but Ross jumped ahead of me. “Allow me!”
Whatever. When I turned around, Dad noticed the limp. “Sit!” he ordered, and Charlie and I both sat.
“What happened to you?” My father knelt in front of me, and I showed him my boo-boo. He poked at it. “Does that hurt?”
I yelped, and Charlie barked, and about then, Joe Wylie walked in.
“Is everything o—”
He dropped the black case he was carrying. “—kay?”
***
I guess it depends on what you consider okay.
Ross was at the kitchen counter pouring drinks, Dad was kneeling on the floor poking at my leg, Charlie continued enjoying the barking phenomenon, and Janet was barking orders at her husband to serve her more sherry, pronto.
Have I forgotten anything? Oh, yes. The gun.
“May I take care of that?” Joe asked.
“Please,” I said, and he picked it up and walked back outside.
I didn’t see him do it, but I know where that gun landed.
Ross handed my father his wine as Joe came back inside. “That’s a Glock,” he told him.
“Correction. It was a Glock.” Joe pointed to Dad’s glass. “May I have some?”
“She’s got bourbon,” Ross said.
“Even better.”
“And I’m still waiting for more sherry, if anyone cares,” Janet said.
No one did.
“You guys know each other?” I asked, and Janet snarled.
“Mr. Wylie, the mechanic,” she said.
“Engineer,” Joe corrected. “I have a PhD, Janet, as you know.”
“And I suppose you think you’re a real doctor, too? Just like Miss Looney Tunes.” She pointed at me, and Joe glanced over.
“Are those your pajamas?” he asked.
About then, the FN451z decided to belt out a little ditty from inside its carrying case. Everyone jumped ten feet in the air, and Charlie resumed barking.
“Son of a bitch,” Janet hissed, and Ross took a gulp of bourbon straight from the bottle.
Joe scowled at Charlie. “You bark?” he asked, and everyone but Charlie told him to get with the program.
I waved at the black box. “I thought she used electricity?”
“Or batteries.” Joe seemed pleased with my interest and glanced around the room. “Any other questions?”
“What is it?” That was Ross.
“It’s the FN451z.” Surprisingly, that was Janet.
“Is it legal?” Ross asked.
“You-hoo?” Maxine Tibbitts called from the porch. “Anyone home?”
Why she was wondering, I really can’t say. I also can’t say why she chose to snap my picture when she came through the door. Because, trust me, there were plenty of other things to catch her attention. And by now you can probably list them with me—Charlie barking, the FN burping, Janet son of a bitching, Ross and Joe swigging bourbon at the kitchen counter, Bobby jabbing at my bruise.
“Are those your pajamas?” Maxine asked me. She snapped another shot before turning to Ross. “Oooo!” she said. “Is that sherry?”
***
Okay, so Maxine got her sherry. Janet got a refill, Dad and I had our wine topped off, and Ross and Joe, the bartending duo, divvied up the remains of the Jim Beam between themselves. Oh, and Charlie got a rawhide bone, which he proceeded to devour on top of Janet’s left shoe.
Everyone found a seat and turned to me. “Explain,” my father ordered as if it were all my fault.
I did my best.
“Charlie was growling?” Dad said.
“Janet tried to shoot you?” Joe said.
I pointed to her forehead. “Tried,” I said, and Janet muttered her usual.
“About then, Ross showed up,” I continued. “And Janet informed us killing me was a necessary precaution to protect Travis.”
My father stood up and yanked Janet’s sherry from her hand.
“No harm done!” Ross said. “Your daughter’s fine, Bobby.”
Dad confiscated his booze, too.
Ross frowned. “We’re very sorry,” he said. “And we’ve learned our lesson, haven’t we, Baby Doll?” He patted Janet’s knee. “No harm done.”
I was once again fantasizing about hurling something at them, when Joe slipped behind my chair and freshened my wine.
“Smile!” Maxine said and aimed her i-Tablet. She beamed at the others. “Tonight’s party should get my column on the front page of the Herald again next week!”
Let’s just say Ross and Janet weren’t thrilled with that idea.
“Cassie doesn’t want to make the headlines again. Do you, Cassie?” Ross smiled at me, and I gave him my most withering look.
“Here’s a shocker,” I said. “But at this point I really don’t care what gets into the Herald. As long as Travis is held accountable for his actions.”
“Never!” Janet hissed. “It’s your word against his.”
“That sherry must be really potent stuff.” I waved at the roomful of people. “What about all these witnesses? What about everyone in Mallard Cove? And the goats, and Miss Rust—”
“What about Travis?” Ross interrupted. He glanced around the room. “Please, please, believe me. The kid’s a fool, but he’s never been violent.”
“That’s right,” Janet said.
“I agree,” Maxine said.
“Me, too,” Joe said.
“You see?” Janet told me. “You’re
so Looney Tunes, even your own boyfriend doesn’t believe you.”
“Boyfriend?” Joe asked.
“That’s what she told everyone at Cars! Cars! Cars!” Janet smirked. “Cassie wants to buy you a big red pickup truck.”
Ross caught my eye. “I can give you a good deal on that.”
Chapter 29
“Look at this.” My father and Charlie burst into the kitchen, and Dad tossed the newspaper on the table. “Nancy Finch is on the front page.”
I pushed my coffee aside to take a look. “She was pretty.” I stared at her picture. “But even alive, she seems—” I searched for the word.
“Haunted,” Dad said. “That’s what Oliver and I decided. He sends his regards, by the way. As do Hollis and Chester. They insist they believed your cockamamie story all along.”
“It’s what kept me going,” I mumbled while I read. “Thanks for going out for this. And for not waking me up at the crack of dawn.”
“We didn’t get to sleep until the crack of da—”
“Wait a minute.” I tapped the paper. “It says she died of heart failure. But what about Travis?” I skimmed some more. “There’s no mention of Travis.”
“The papers couldn’t cover what they didn’t know yet.”
“But still. What if Ross sees this and changes his mind?” I got up to get my father some coffee, and he assured me Ross the Boss wasn’t going to change his mind.
“He gave us his word last night that Travis would turn himself in first thing this morning.” Dad took the cup I handed him. “He’s probably with Gabe right now.”
“But what if Janet gets her way?” I said. “She wasn’t exactly keen on this plan.”
“And I’m not exactly keen on Janet. If she stalls this operation, we’ll fish her stupid gun out of the lake and let her explain that to Gabe.” Dad pointed to my shin. “You should see a doctor.”
I glanced down. “It looks worse than it feels,” I lied, but decided maybe shorts weren’t the best option for the day.
“At least take it easy,” Dad said, but I shook my head and reminded him about the Jolly Green Giant.
“Girl! You can’t be on a ladder today! I forbid it.”
I promised to work only on the first floor. “But I can’t sit still. Not with all this stuff going on.”
Unbelievable Page 13