Creeps, Cache, & Corpses, page 8
“I do. Drop it.” She stood as tall as she and her four-inch heels would get her. “I need a love song.” She fished a ten-dollar bill from her Yves St. Laurent bag and linked her arm with mine, dragging me to the piano bar. “I’m thinking Do You Believe in Magic. What about you?”
The piano player nodded farewell after rewarding our tips with his great musical skill.
The temperature had plummeted, and the predicted rain had already transformed into snowflakes, dusting everything. The expected accumulation was negligible, but in the dark, even a little snow could make the roads slick and treacherous. We inched our way safely back to the inn.
Singing along with the radio at the top of our lungs helped the long minutes pass quickly. We’d been gone for two hours and that provided ample time for two rambunctious dogs to land in a heap of trouble, but the sight of the sheriff’s car was entirely unexpected.
“Good evening, Sheriff.” Jane greeted the man sitting on the porch steps, bundled up as if prepared for a blizzard. He was stuffed into a black duty jacket and wore a fur-lined trapper hat. “What brings you here?”
He rose and shivered slightly. “Good evening, folks. I was hoping to have another little conversation with the elders in the group.”
CJ opened the door, and we filed inside. The sheriff and CJ briefly engaged in a ‘you first’ standoff, but this time CJ emerged the victor in the battle of wills. Sheriff Zasko stepped through the doorway and had removed his furry cap when scraping, banging, yelping, and whining noises echoed from upstairs. He reached across his rotund form for his firearm, and CJ gently pressed a hand on the man’s shoulder, calming his movements. CJ lifted a warning finger and motioned for us to follow. I removed my shoes and crept up the stairs.
FIFTEEN
We traced the noisy yips to our lovable furry friends. They’d toppled their kennels and had skidded along the floor to the door, anxiously anticipating our reappearance. With a nod from the sheriff, Galen unlatched the grates. Maverick zoomed through the open door, knocking the sheriff off balance, and streaked down the hall. When Renegade trailed after, yapping with excitement, CJ caught Sheriff Zasko’s arm, helping him regain his footing.
“Thanks,” the sheriff mumbled, looking a bit dazed.
CJ bowed slightly.
“Kids,” Sheriff Zasko said. “If you need anything, we’ll be in the dining room.”
“Guess we know when we’re not wanted,” said Carlee, winking. She palmed something from my pillow with a sly grin. I tried to look menacing. I still hadn’t tasted any yummy treats. She pursed her lips, buttoning them up tight. We’d have a conversation later.
The sheriff snugged his pants over his belly and descended the stairs, gripping the banister for support. The dogs paused on the landing halfway down. Sheriff Zasko maneuvered around them just as the doorbell chimed. From our vantage point, we watched Reggie plod from the registration office and open the front door. Irinia stood on the front step under the dim yellow light.
Sheriff Zasko put his finger to his lips, signaling us to back up to the second flight. When I took a gander through the balusters, I had a clear view of the entire foyer reflected in the mirror on the wall.
“Reginald, darling, I was terribly worried about you,” she cooed.
Sheriff Zasko shook his head and mumbled, “What a gold digger.”
“You weren’t out with your friends tonight and I have so much to share with you. I’ve come over to tell you now while I still have the courage.” Irinia’s irksome voice circled up the staircase and didn’t sound at all like she lacked courage.
Willy Zasko emerged from the library, running sandpaper along the edges of a carved piece of wood, chewing on a toothpick. Irinia glowered. “It appears you still keep strange company. I won’t be but a minute.”
“Irinia, I told you to stay away from Reggie,” said Willy.
“Since when have I ever listened to you?” Irinia ducked under Reggie’s arm and brushed past him into the foyer, unbuttoning her coat.
“I can handle her, Willy.” Reggie said.
“I bet you can,” Irinia purred suggestively.
“You should leave, Irinia,” said Willy. “You’ve been a pain in my side ever since we parted ways.”
“Now’s not the best time.” Reggie held the door open. “I’ll see you later, Irinia.”
“The tigress is finally gone,” Irinia pouted. “And you’re all on your lonesome. I’d hate for anyone to take advantage of you in your time of sorrow.” She shot Willy a withering glance.
Willy took an intimidating step toward her.
Sheriff Zasko cleared his throat. “Would you expand on that thought, Ms. Holocek?” All eyes traveled up the stairs.
Just then, Lauren strolled in from the kitchen, a tow-headed toddler with huge blue eyes perched on her hip. The little one clung to her neck while her gaze swept the room, nodding slightly as if tallying bodies. “Mr. Farthington, I can whip up some snacks for your guests. It won’t take a minute.” She hiked the little guy to her other hip. “We’ll be right back, won’t we Davy?” she said, nuzzling the child and giggling. She vanished before anyone could object.
“You’re busy so I’ll be seeing you, Reggie, sweetheart.” Irinia slithered to the door.
“Please stay, Ms. Holocek. As long as you’re all here, I have some questions, if you don’t mind.” Willy set the block on the entry table and stepped toward the closet. “Willy, I’d like to speak to you and Reggie too.”
Willy bowed his head. “Of course, Sheriff.”
“Ms. Holocek, join me in the living room.” The sheriff descended a few steps, motioning us to follow.
We stepped into view, to the bewilderment of the three in the entry.
“If you would wait in the dining room, I’d greatly appreciate it,” said the sheriff.
A quartet of boisterous, inebriated men meandered into the foyer, tripping on the pattern in the carpet, caught the serious vibes, and stumbled over one another in an unsuccessful attempt to sneak back into the kitchen.
“Chesterfield, where do you think you’re going?” said Willy. “You’re fortunate I was able to negotiate your stay here. Reggie finished up the rooms just in time, but Sheriff, the gang’s all here. They could have valuable information for you.”
Sheriff Zasko’s lips curled in what might have been a scary smile. “I would like to talk to the four of you. I’ll join you in the kitchen shortly.”
One of the four hooted, “Ry-ker.”
Ryker rammed the man’s shoulder, and the raucous bunch straightened up. Ryker raised his head, wobbled a bit, and threw his shoulders back again, pasting on a crooked grimace. “Sure, boss.”
“Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.” Sheriff Zasko sounded conciliatory, but the immediate compliance of everyone made me imagine him as a pit bull in disguise, armed with magic powers.
Once we were seated around the dining room table, Lauren bustled in, carrying a charcuterie board stacked with enough to feed a dozen—cold meats, cheeses, bright red strawberries, and green grapes.
“Please help yourself to the snacks. I’ll fetch the lemonade.” She returned in a flash with a pitcher of frosty pink liquid.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Lauren. How’s Davy doing?” I asked.
“He’s a champ. Thanks for asking. I just can’t believe he’s finally out of there.” Her voice cracked as she lowered herself to her knees. Swinging open the cupboard door, she dug out tumblers for our beverages. She stacked them on the countertop, forming a makeshift pyramid.
Normally, she’d slip out of the room, but it seemed like she lingered, longing for a chat.
“May I ask, what is it that Davy had?”
She took a big gulp of air. “Food poisoning. By the time they figured it out, he needed intravenous fluids. I was scared to death.” Her tone turned solemn. “What kid listens to his mom? And what does a four-year-old understand? He ate supper with Mrs. Farthington one evening last week while she had me polishing the silver service set, and during the night he got really sick. I had to rush him to the hospital. But we won’t have to worry about that happening again, will we?”
She cocked her head, her eyes widening. “Oops, I guess I shouldn’t have said it like that. You’ve got to know, Mrs. Farthington made sure Davy had excellent medical care. I think it was guilt. But I don’t think Reggie will be of the same ilk. He’s the one who told me I’d have to leave if I missed any more shifts. I never actually missed any. Once or twice, I came a few minutes late on account of visiting Davy.” She found something fascinating on the floor at her feet. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I’m running at the mouth. If you need me, press the help button on the house phone. I’ll get out of your way now.” She dashed from the room.
I poured four lemonades, and we settled in, waiting for the sheriff.
“What else could he possibly want to ask us?” said Jane. “We found that poor woman’s body and that’s it. The only person who knows what happened must have killed her.”
“Remember, only answer questions asked. Offering extraneous information will solicit enquiries, complicate matters for Sheriff Zasko, and prolong our interrogation,” CJ said. “Because I guarantee it will be an interrogation.”
Practicing what he preached, he wordlessly fixed a plate of snacks for the table. We nibbled and remained silent until Sheriff Zasko entered the room. He sighed and quietly secured the door.
He shook his head and groaned. “Some folks.”
Sheriff Zasko dropped into the seat indicated by CJ, raised the glass, examined the contents, and drained it. “Thanks. I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here. We’re trying to pin down the timeline. When was the last time any of you actually saw Edith, Mrs. Farthington?” He extracted his notebook and pencil from a back pocket. He licked the tip of the pencil and said in a self-deprecating tone, “Don’t ask me why I do that.”
CJ’s left eyebrow shot up. “You do it to make us think you are more of a country bumpkin than you actually are.” Sheriff Zasko stilled. “I, too, talked to Chief West. She tells me you were an extremely successful Chicago detective before you met the love of your life and settled down here.”
Jane and I snapped our heads from CJ to the sheriff and back again.
“Warn us next time you drop a bomb, CJ. Jane and I nearly had whiplash.”
The sheriff chuckled. “Does it work?”
We glared at him.
He scrubbed his grizzled five o’clock shadow and wiped the grin from his face. “We know a bit about the murder weapon and hope we can determine how or where it was disposed of. Did any of you catch a whiff of smoke at the park this morning? A hint of a fire, maybe? Or notice ashes anywhere?”
Jane shook her head. She rolled her lips over her teeth and pressed them together, clamping down to avoid oversharing unnecessary information.
As for me? I cleared my throat and avoided CJ’s reproachful gaze. I was more forthcoming.
SIXTEEN
“I may have smelled something smokey this morning,” I said and chewed on my lower lip. “I can’t be sure.”
“Ms. Wilk—Katie, I’m grasping at straws here.” Sheriff Zasko leaned in, and his belt buckle clanged against the table. “What can you tell me?”
I turned to Jane. “Remember the ‘two’ you awarded my throw this morning?”
She nodded but her lips were pinched together, CJ’s cautionary words having their desired effect. Then she relented and the words cascaded forth. “Of course, I do. You tried to throw that stick away to protect Maverick and Renegade from getting hurt.” She addressed CJ. “We didn’t need to generate more patients for you.”
“And?” The sheriff’s store of patience faded.
“Wait here.” I dashed from my seat, accompanied by both dogs who probably thought I was playing an exhilarating game with treats or toys hidden in my clenched fists. They danced beside me, their infectious excitement mirroring my own as we ascended the stairs. I burst into my room and four pairs of eyes locked on my form, stunned by my surprising appearance.
“Excuse me.” I pulled my suitcase out of the closet, dug around in the laundry bag, and wriggled free the pants I’d worn that morning. I took a cautious whiff. And sniffed again to confirm what I already suspected.
“Ew,” Kindra said. “Guests do have access to a washing machine, you know. You don’t have to rate your clothes to help you choose the cleanest ones to wear.”
Patricia understood every word and smirked.
I smiled and said, “Always good to have options. Thanks.” The suitcase closed with a definitive zip, and I cued the dogs with a firm, “Stay,” before easing the door shut behind me.
I walked a little taller, rejoining CJ and Jane in the dining room, and deposited the damp, muddy-kneed, and yellow-streaked pants in front of the sheriff like a trophy. He sat back in his chair, turned his head a degree to his right and back. The faint odor of smoke wafted from the fabric. He inclined toward the jeans and raised a questioning brow.
Jane crossed her arms. “Maverick’s version of fetch ended in a minor mishap this morning. Katie took away his unwieldy stick and her throw earned her a solid two out of ten on my scorecard. Maybe her choice of wearing last year’s Walmart special this morning hampered her javelin toss.”
I glared at her, miffed at her offhanded comment. How did she know my jeans were from Walmart?
“Katie, can you find this stick again?” the sheriff asked. “We might be able to track the source of the fire if indeed there was one.”
Intrigued, CJ did not follow his own advice. “How can a burned branch help your investigation?”
“I don’t think you’re involved in the murder,” the sheriff said boldly, making eye contact around the table. CJ straightened his back and lifted his chin, squinting. “Truly I don’t. I’ve decided to take you into my confidence. It appears Edith was knocked out with a rectangular piece of wood, and there are slivers imbedded in the gash in her chest, implying she might’ve met her end when someone stabbed her with a very sharp tool—perhaps one used in woodworking. We didn’t find anything near the body. If our murderer possessed any intelligence, he—”
“Or she.” My interruption elicited a glare from CJ.
“Or she could’ve disposed of the weapon. Burning wood would be the easiest way to get rid of it.”
A shudder rippled through me. “I think I can lead you to the general location, and I wasn’t able to toss the stick very far off the path.”
“You can say that again,” Jane said softly.
“We won’t be able to find it tonight,” said the sheriff. “I’d like an early start. Ms. Mackey, Ms. Wilk, let’s reconvene at say, seven?”
“I suppose I can be ready,” Jane said, trying to sound annoyed, but I recognized curiosity in her eyes. “We’re not bringing the kids. They’ve been through enough.”
“Agreed,” said the sheriff. He pressed his heft away from the table. “Good night, folks. See you in the morning.”
As the sheriff retreated, my attempt at bravado slipped out, aimed at the vanishing form. “We are bringing the dogs.” I shrugged at the puzzled looks. “Maverick might just rediscover his stick.”
The kids appeared on the steps as the door closed and joined us for a tiny, totally unnecessary snack while CJ debriefed them. They knew what the sheriff wanted and were more than happy to let us handle it.
“Is there anything more we can do, Father?” asked Carlee, with levity, her eyes teasing.
The cryptic smile on CJ’s face set us all up for a chuckle. “Your efforts have sufficed, thank you, Daughter.”
Galen tapped Carlee’s shoulder. “It’s time.” Patricia and Kindra nodded encouragingly. Carlee drew two small bundles from her voluminous pocket. She handed one to me and one to CJ.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Unwrap them.”
My eager fingers peeled away the sticky tape and I gasped when I unveiled an intricately carved three-inch high jet-black statue of Maverick, looking like he was ready to chase a squirrel. The feather-light carving made its way around the room, scrutinized like the precious piece of art it was.
Jane gingerly lifted it to the light. “He looks so real, his ears look ready to twitch, and these eyes have a mischievous glint. It’s as though he was caught mid-bark.” She turned it over in her hands before giving it back.
CJ ran his thumb over the warm, toasty brown likeness of Renegade, and his voice soft with reverence, he said, “A wonder.”
“Where did these come from?” I whispered in awe.
“They’re Nicki’s creations,” said Carlee. “She’s an accomplished woodworker and completed the statuettes this afternoon. Isn’t she great? She said our dogs are gorgeous animals and inspired her. She wouldn’t let me pay for the carvings, insisting we keep them.”
That name jolted me from euphoria and injected the feeling of unease. “She captured their personalities perfectly. Where is she? I’d like to thank her.”
“She stopped by and dropped off the carvings right after you went downstairs with the sheriff. She didn’t want to get in the way and left, but said she’d try to check in with you tomorrow.”
CJ and Jane seemed unperturbed, so I attributed my disquiet to the fatigue of an endless day. Just as I was about to suggest turning in, Patricia said, “Let’s play one of the old games from that collection in the library.”
“Library?” I wondered about the undiscovered spaces in the inn. “Where’s the library?”
“It’s huge. How could you miss it?” said Galen. “It’s right next to the kitchen.”
The sinister late-night conversation I’d overheard returned and visiting the library might be enlightening.
We tiptoed into the stunning space.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls, and a maze of intersecting shelves formed an enigmatic center. We navigated the maze to a grand picture window, moonlight caressing a massive conference table encircled by ten leather-covered swivel chairs. Next to the cupboard of games stood an intriguing black filing cabinet and a vintage escritoire with three nested wooden bowls.
