A Stab in the Dark, page 15
part #2 of Whodunit Antiques Series
“Oh, jeez, Missy, I’m so sorry!” Abigail reached over, plucked up the cream and white puff ball, and deposited the dog onto her lap. “Why aren’t you with Grandma?”
Missy scampered to the foot of the bed and returned with her leash in her mouth.
“Missy, you’ve got to be kidding. You’re slimmer than ever. And it’s cold out! Are you sure you want to run?”
Missy simply sat, waiting.
“Oh, all right then,” Abigail gave in. Thor, absolutely delighted, leaped beside Missy and sent her tumbling off the bed again.
*
When they returned from their jog, Sheriff Wilson’s patrol car was parked outside the antique store.
“Looks like Grandma’s got her beau back,” Abigail commented to the two dogs, who sniffed the tires before continuing up the front porch.
Grandma and Sheriff Wilson were in the kitchen, chatting over a cup of tea.
“Good morning, Abigail,” Grandma called. “How was the run?”
“Not bad. Missy and I are improving at about the same rate.”
Grandma shook her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into my little princess.” She patted her knees, and Missy jumped up into her lap. “She’s turning into quite the athlete.”
“Maybe she’s trying to get Thor’s attention.” Abigail smiled and turned to Sheriff Wilson. “How are you, Sheriff?”
“I’m better than I was,” Willy responded. After a quick appraising glance, Abigail decided he really was doing better. His shoulders had lost their stoop, and his eyes were clearer, his face less pale.
“I’m glad this case is over,” he continued. “And I’m glad it’s only tangentially related to the Ripper. I’m ready to move on with my life.”
Grandma nodded. “I think we all are.”
“I’m not so sure about James, though,” he admitted. “I’m worried he’ll never put things in the past. He just can’t rest until a question’s answered. He’s a lot like his mother in that way.”
Sheriff Wilson’s voice cracked. Abigail wasn’t sure what to do, but Grandma did. She reached out a wrinkled hand and placed it over the sheriff’s. She didn’t speak; she just gave him the time to feel his grief, his loss, and then put himself together again, as he had every day since his wife’s death.
After a while, he spoke again. “I’m just happy James is staying in town for a while. I missed that boy.”
Abigail tilted her head. “He is?”
The sheriff nodded, a smile taking over his face. “He told me he wants to help out for a bit. Keep me company. He’s always been a good kid.”
Abigail glanced over at Grandma, who winked back at her. The old woman was relentless with her attempts at playing matchmaker. Abigail would have to make sure she knew nothing about where she was going tonight, and with whom, because then she’d never hear the end of it.
Chapter 29
Kirby’s Candlepin Bowling Alley was just as crowded as the night Abigail had met and questioned Rachel. When Abigail joined James at the bar, he nodded at the busy lanes. “Guess we’re not bowling after all, Cupcake.”
She sat on the empty stool next to him and looked around. Families and couples clustered around the lanes, while teens stuck to arcade games along the sides of the large open room.
“Everything seems so normal,” she said, yelling to make herself heard over the noise.
James followed her gaze around the room. After a moment, he smiled. “Yeah. Good old Wallace Point.”
“Abigail,” barked a gruff voice. Abigail looked up. Behind the bar, Kirby towered over her. He looked pretty angry.
“Hey Kirby,” she said. “Busy night.”
Kirby glanced up, his face growing darker. “More people out, now that the killer has been caught. Thanks a lot.”
Was he really thanking her, or was he being sarcastic? He certainly didn’t seem happy about the influx of customers. Abigail sighed. Kirby was one of those mysteries she might never solve. “Um, you’re welcome. Business has picked up for Grandma too.”
Kirby’s frown softened. “Good. I’m glad she’s well.”
James nudged Abigail’s shoulder. “So, Cupcake, what are you drinking?”
*
A couple hours and a few drinks later, the bowling alley had quieted down enough for James and Abigail to have an actual conversation.
“I still can’t believe you suspected I might have taken out Rachel,” James said, doing his best to hold back his laughter.
Abigail wiped away a tear. “Of course I suspected you. You seemed like a sleazy divorce PI. Still do, if I’m going to be honest.”
“Well, the job is necessarily sleazy at times. Divorces and cheaters are my bread and butter. Without them, I wouldn’t get to wear this trench coat or use that awesome monocular Granny Lane gave me.”
“Have you used it already?”
“Every day.”
“What? How?”
“You’d be surprised how handy one of those things can be in daily life. Anyways, the sleazy stuff keeps me in business, but I prefer more complicated cases, the ones police have given up on. You know, missing persons, cold cases, so on and so forth.”
Abigail nodded. Briefly, she wondered whether James could help her find her father. Her mother had stayed pretty tight-lipped about him, but maybe James could dig something up…
“Unfortunately, those cases don’t pay much, if anything,” James continued. “I investigate most of them pro bono.”
“Wow. That’s generous.”
“I guess. I don’t know. The people involved in those cases have suffered so much already. They’ve waited for years to find out what happened to their loved ones. I know what that feels like.” James stared down into his beer. “Funny thing is, even though I’ve helped close a few cold cases for other people, I still can’t close the Ripper case.”
Abigail tried to think of something positive to say. “Well. You know. They’ve been closing all kinds of unsolved cases these days, with DNA forensics and databases.”
“That’s like playing the lottery.” James shook his head. “It’s up to chance if a relative of the killer decides to sequence their DNA. Even then, the police have to realize it’s a match. I don’t think my man’s going to be caught that way.”
Abigail finished her drink, and, before she could say a word, Kirby refilled it. She chuckled. Maybe he drank like a Viking, and thought she could too.
“So, what do you plan on doing now?” she asked, taking a tiny sip. “Your father said that you’re going to be staying for a while?”
“That’s right. My father’s been under a lot of stress lately, so I want to help out any way I can.” James paused and gave Abigail a cryptic look. “I don’t want anyone to catch on, especially not my father, but I’m going to give the Ripper case a second look. It was such a turbulent time in this town back when it happened that I wouldn’t be surprised if the police missed a crucial detail.”
Abigail didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that he wanted to continue hunting the Ripper worried her. Chasing the killer might simply be an exercise in futility. James had lived most of his life in the shadow of the Ripper’s murders. If he wasn’t careful, he risked squandering the rest of his days in an endless search for a killer who might’ve already been dead or, even worse, had put the past behind him.
Still, if James wanted to keep searching for the Ripper, that was entirely his prerogative.
“I hope you do find something new,” she said. “You know who to call if you need any help.”
“Thanks, Cupcake.”
“So, where are you staying in the meanwhile? Your father’s place?”
“Actually, I’m staying at the murder motel.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”
“It’s a blank slate. Wouldn’t want to distract myself with the nostalgia of my childhood home. That and I get a kick out of the motel owner, Mary Chang. Can you believe she yelled at me for never making my bed?” James grinned. “Like, come on, I was busy trying to solve a murder that happened in her motel. Not to mention I thought bed making was what room service was for!”
Abigail laughed. She could totally picture Mary Chang getting on James’s case.
Just then, the lights in the bowling alley dimmed perceptibly: Kirby’s signal that he was ready to close up for the evening.
“Come on, Cupcake. I’ll walk you home.” James drained his drink and stood. Abigail eyed her own beverage before pushing it away. Looking around the alley one last time, Abigail smiled. Good old Wallace Point.
***
Thanks for reading! Want to help out?
Reviews are a huge help for independent authors like me, so if you liked my book, please consider leaving a review.
Even a short one sentence review can make a big difference, so click the link below to go directly to the product page and let people know what you think :)
Write a review by clicking here!
Don’t close the book just yet!
I’ve got one more mystery for you, and guess what? It’s free to read!
Don’t miss out on Thor’s first case. If you sign up to my newsletter, I’ll immediately send you a FREE short mystery featuring Thor as a dog detective!
My newsletter is spam-free and you can easily unsubscribe at any time, so why not give it a shot?
Click here for your free short story!
About the Author
Mysteries run in the family, starting all the way back to my great grandmother. I grew up watching old black and white movies like The Thin Man and Rebecca, and reading classic mysteries by Poe, Doyle, and Christie.
Outside of writing mysteries, I love old steamships, 1990s adventure puzzle games, and trusty pets. I live in a coastal New England town with my hideous (yet charming) Chihuahua, Fugly.
Shelly West, A Stab in the Dark
