Foal Play: A Mystery (15 page)

She arrived at the firehouse and parked. She didn’t, however, cut the engine. “We need a game plan before we go in,” she said, turning to Myrtle.

“What do you have in mind?”

“You say as little as possible, for starters.”

“Aren’t people going to find it strange that you have a mute uncle?” Myrtle asked sarcastically.

“Given your appearance, the fact that you don’t speak will be the least strange thing about you.”

“I happen to think that Mitch Connelly is a rather dapper fellow,” Myrtle said, insulted.

Colleen gave Myrtle the once-over. Okay. Maybe to a woman of a certain age Myrtle was dapper. At least Nellie seemed to think so. “Promise me you won’t say too much.”

“I don’t make promises,” Myrtle said.

Colleen threw her hands up in defeat and cut the engine. She didn’t have time for Myrtle’s games. She had to make an appearance inside or her staff would wonder what she was doing out in the parking lot. She didn’t know why she had even tried. Myrtle was going to do what Myrtle wanted and there was nothing she could do about it. She opened her door.

“Wait,” Myrtle said.

Colleen paused, low on patience.

“As you wish,” Myrtle said and made a gesture of locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“Thank you.”

Today was actually a good day for Colleen to show Myrtle around. Starting mid-June and ending mid-August, the Whalehead Ocean Rescue team ran the Safety Education and Aquatic Learning for Kids program, otherwise known as SEAL Kids. SEAL Kids was a free ocean safety mini-camp designed to teach children ages seven to fourteen about ocean conditions, how to recognize an emergency, how to summon help, and general physical fitness. She was proud of how the program had grown over the years, thanks in part to local business sponsors such as Salvatore Development Corporation, which enabled the program to remain free to anyone who signed up. It was a valuable and proactive public service and one that Colleen logically would show off to her uncle.

She checked in with Jimmy at the station, briefly introduced her uncle Mitch to the guys, and headed out to the beach where the SEAL Kids class was conducted. Since Myrtle had been a schoolteacher, Colleen thought she might enjoy seeing the kids. It would also keep Myrtle out of the station and away from the curious eyes of her staff.

Colleen, Myrtle, and Sparky strolled up the road to the wooden ramp directly across from the lifeguard station. They marched up the boardwalk and over the dunes. Down the beach, Colleen spotted two Ocean Rescue instructors with a group of kids. The instructors had set up small orange cones and had divided the kids into teams. These teams were now cheering and running in a shuttle race between the cones. Colleen smiled at their enthusiasm.

“I thought you’d like to see the kids,” she said to Myrtle.

“Haven’t I seen enough in my day?”

Colleen raised her brows in surprise.

Myrtle shrugged. “You try teaching grade school for thirty-five years.”

Just then, three horses plodded over a dune several hundred yards up the beach. Sparky tilted his head to the side, lifted an ear, and took off running.

“Sparky, no!” Colleen called, but it was too late.

The Border collie was doing what he was bred to do—herd. She hoped he didn’t nip at the horses’ back hooves too much. In the past, when he had approached the horses too closely from behind, the horses had kicked at him to drive him away. On rare occasions the horses had connected with Sparky’s body, but never harshly enough that it prevented Sparky from coming back for more. One thing about Border collies, they were hardy, persistent dogs.

Sparky dipped his head and darted among the horses. The horses moved right then left. Sparky followed their movements in an intricate dance. Colleen was relieved to see that today the horses didn’t seem to mind the pesky dog. Instead, they wandered to the wet sand, Sparky at their heels.

“He’ll come back, won’t he?” Myrtle asked.

Colleen smiled. There was genuine concern in Myrtle’s voice. “Border collies stick to their territory. He’ll come back when he’s gone too far. Shall we see what the kids are up to?”

“If we must,” Myrtle said, and followed her across the sand toward the students in the SEAL program.

“Morning, Chief,” one of the instructors said as they approached. “Kids, I’d like to introduce you to Chief McCabe.”

“Good morning,” Colleen greeted the dozen or so children squinting up at her.

“Good morning,” they said in unison.

“You’re the fire chief?” a little boy with red hair and burned cheeks asked.

“That’s right.”

“I didn’t know girls could be fire chiefs,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose.

“Young man, girls can be anything they want,” Myrtle said in her Mitch Connolly voice.

“Sorry, sir,” the little boy said.

Some in the group, mostly the girls, giggled. Colleen suppressed a smile. Myrtle hadn’t lost her touch with children.

“Okay, that’s enough,” one of the instructors said.

The kids obediently fell quiet. Colleen had to hand it to the Ocean Rescue instructors—they ran a tight ship.

As one of the instructors was about to begin the next part of the mini-camp, a lanky girl of about ten years of age, with frizzy hair and braces, came running at them from down the beach. “Hey!” she yelled as she ran, her arms waving wildly. All eyes watched the girl as she sprinted through the dry sand, ponytail flapping erratically up, down, and sideways. She reached the group, flushed and out of breath.

“What is it, Ashley?” an instructor asked, alarmed.

“I think I spotted an emergency,” she said between gasps.

Everyone scrutinized the ocean, expecting to see a swimmer in need of help in the surf but saw a line of pelicans gliding over the breaking waves instead.

“Take a breath and tell me what you saw,” the instructor said.

Ashley did as instructed, gulping in so much air Colleen thought she’d pass out. Finally, the girl pointed to the dunes up the beach. “There was a man. He was digging.”

“A lot of people dig in the sand. We’re at the beach,” the second instructor said.

The children giggled. Colleen and Myrtle were not amused. Not too long ago a body had turned up on the beach.

Colleen knelt beside the girl. “I’m Chief McCabe with the fire department. You want to tell me what you saw?”

“Chief, that’s really not necessary,” one of the instructors said, obviously mortified that his boss’s time would be taken up by an overzealous pupil.

“It’s fine,” she said.

Colleen put her arm gently on the girl’s shoulder and guided her away from the group. “This is my uncle,” she said as Myrtle joined them. “Why don’t you show us where you saw the man digging.”

The girl eyed Myrtle somewhat warily but bobbed her head and began hiking through the dry sand toward the dunes. As Colleen and Myrtle followed, the girl between them, they looked at each other with apprehension.

“He was right over here,” Ashley said, making a move to climb the dune.

Colleen touched the girl’s arm to stop her. She didn’t know if there was anything to the girl’s story but if it was linked to the body that had washed up earlier or the explosion at the Crepe house, she didn’t need the child traumatized by seeing a dead body buried in the dunes.

“Tell me about the man. What did he look like?” she asked.

The girl cocked her head to the side, thinking for a second. “He had black hair and black eyes. When he saw me watching him he made a fist and shook it at me. Then the dog came and barked and he ran away.”

“What did the dog look like?” she asked, scanning the beach.

“Black and white with a big fluffy tail,” Ashley said, smiling.

“Sparky,” Myrtle said, voicing Colleen’s own thought.

“Did the dog run after the man?” she asked.

Ashley nodded. “They went over the dune.”

Colleen’s heart raced. It was unusual for Sparky to run after someone unless he was feeling threatened or protecting his territory. If the man was the person who had burned and dumped the body that had washed up on the beach, she had no doubt he’d harm a dog.

“Ashley, I want you to stay here with my uncle,” Colleen said. “Sparky!” she called as she ascended the dune.

Colleen whistled several short blasts, which she did only in times of emergency. What if something had happened to Sparky? She fought back tears, trying not to jump to conclusions. Her breathing grew labored as she plowed her way to the top of the dune. As she reached the peak, Sparky came bounding up from the other side, his tongue out and his tail wagging.

“That’s him!” the girl yelled from below.

“Sparky!” Colleen said, embracing the dog and collapsing in the sand.

The dog rolled in the sand, delighted that he had played such a good game of hide-and-seek. Colleen had been warned when Sparky was a puppy that Border collies had a mischievous side and could be intentionally defiant in an attempt to get their owners to chase them or play. This was the first time such behavior had panicked her, and she rubbed his chest with relief.

“No treats for you, mister,” she said, not really meaning it. “Heel,” she said, then stood and pointed to the beach below.

Instead of obeying, the dog loped to the top of the dune and disappeared from sight.

“He’s a bad dog,” said the girl with delight.

“No, young lady, he’s a smart dog,” Myrtle said.

Colleen and Myrtle locked eyes. Maybe there was a reason Sparky had followed the man. After all, this part of the beach was beyond his usual territory.

“I’m going to check it out,” she said to Myrtle and slogged up the dune.

Colleen reached the top and half expected to see a dead body waiting for her on the other side. Instead, Sparky was busily digging in a section of the dunes hidden from view by a thick cluster of grass. Colleen carefully made her way down the other side of the dune, conscious of how delicate the dunes and the grass that grew on them were.

As she descended, half stepping, half sliding, the ocean breeze diminished and the temperature increased. Perspiration dotted her upper lip and forehead. She wiped both with the back of her hand as she reached Sparky. The dog was digging furiously but not making much progress. As soon as he cleared sand away, more filled the hole.

“What have you got there?” she asked, nudging him aside.

The canine watched intently as Colleen took over digging. She had the same difficulty as Sparky with sand instantly filling in the hole where she dug. Unsure of what she would find, she gave up and pushed her hand deep into the dune. She stretched and wiggled her fingers, feeling for something, anything. She stopped when she felt smooth plastic around what felt like a brick.

Colleen extracted the item and sat back. The object was a tightly wrapped parcel with a dark brown substance inside. The outer plastic had been stamped with the product logo
HOT SAUCE.
Colleen instantly used the bottom of her shirt to hold the package. If she was right about the contents, the police would want to dust the casing for fingerprints. The less she contaminated the object with hers the better.

Sparky reclined in the sand, sphinxlike, and grinned at her. Colleen rubbed his ear. He had done well. She reached into her pocket and removed her cell phone. She couldn’t keep Bill in the dark any longer. The stakes were too high.

Bill answered on the second ring. “Hey,” he said, knowing it was her from his caller ID.

“Can you meet me on the beach near Shad and Lighthouse?” Colleen asked, not wanting to get into too much detail until she saw him in person.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Things are a little busy here.”

“It’s not a body, but a girl and Sparky found something in the dunes.”

“I’ll be right there,” he said.

“And Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll want to bring your people.”

Colleen hung up. She hoped the bundle was enough evidence to keep Bill from hauling her and Myrtle into the police station for obstructing the investigation of Myrtle’s death.

She rose and brushed herself off. She’d better tell Myrtle that Bill was on his way. She ordered Sparky to stay where he had been digging. He gladly obliged. She reached the dune’s crest and waved to Myrtle and the girl.

“Is everything okay?” Myrtle asked, uneasy.

“We’re gonna have company,” Colleen said.

“Have you lost your mind?”
Bill asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice down.

Bill’s deputies and the Drug Enforcement Administration agents working in the cordoned-off area of the dune eyed Bill and Colleen, who were standing several yards away on the beach below. Colleen squinted up at them. Bill forced a smile and waved. The agents resumed their excavation and crime scene investigation. Thus far, they had uncovered twenty bricks of heroin in addition to the one Colleen had unearthed.

“If Myrtle is alive, where is she?” Bill asked in a lower voice.

“Follow me.”

“No games, Colleen,” he said, holding his ground. “Where is Myrtle Crepe?”

She checked to be certain they weren’t being observed and leaned closer lest the ocean wind carry her voice over the dunes to the ears of the crime scene investigation team.

“She’s up the beach with Sparky and the girl,” she said. “The girl said she won’t talk to anyone but me and the only reason she’s doing that is because she likes Sparky. Please, you can yell at me later, but right now I need you to come with me.”

Colleen waited. Later, she’d take whatever consequences her friendship would suffer from having concealed Myrtle’s status as a living being, but right now the most important thing was protecting the girl and Myrtle. That meant Bill needed to accompany her away from the alert eyes of investigators and curious vacationers.

Bill was furious. But she could see from the way his eyebrows came together in a furrow above his nose that behind his anger was concern. She proceeded up the beach, hoping he would follow. A moment later, he was at her side.

They walked in silence. Colleen understood she’d have to answer a million questions. She dreaded Bill’s interrogation but on some level thought she deserved it. They arrived at the dune behind which Myrtle and the girl were hidden with Sparky. Colleen glimpsed down the beach to be certain they couldn’t be seen. Due to a bend in the beach, she and Bill were well out of sight of the investigators.