Authors: Cricket McRae
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Mystery Fiction, #Washington (State), #Women Artisans, #Soap Trade
So Ambrose couldn't even be bothered to talk to me himself. A
simple phone call would have sufficed.
"Ms. Reynolds," she said in a tone several degrees chillier than
the outside temperature. What had Ambrose told her? For that
matter, what had Meghan told his voicemail?
"Officer Danson," I said.
"Please come in, Officer," Meghan said from behind me.
We led the way to the living room and invited her to sit down,
but she insisted on standing. Meghan sat on the sofa and I leaned
awkwardly next to the fireplace mantle. I could already tell this
wasn't going to go well.
"I know you're upset about what happened, Ms. Reynolds, but
you have to leave the investigation to the police. Your interference
has already made things more difficult."
"Of course I'm upset about what happened! And I have yet to
see any evidence of an investigation. All I was doing was walking
home-"
"Walking home? I don't think so. From what I've been told you
were questioning people, and I'm sorry, but you may have muddied the waters by doing so."
Had Debby and Jacob told the police I'd been questioning
them? I'd only asked how to get in touch with them. I opened my
mouth, but Meghan spoke before I could.
"Officer, could you be a bit more specific about what Sophie
Mae did?"
I swear the woman harrumphed. "She went up and down the
street, talking to the neighbors, trying to find out if anyone saw anything during the time of your burglary." She turned to me. "Luckily,
it doesn't sound like many people were home when you did your
door-to-door this morning, but you've done enough damage."
Oh. That.
"A lot of people were at work," I said.
"Which is why I waited until this afternoon to check with your
neighbors about what they may have seen. Please leave it to me. I
know you have good intentions, but I really do know how to do
my job. Better than you do, Ms. Reynolds."
"I thought you'd just fill out the case report and file it away. Last
night you said it's nearly impossible to find household thieves."
"It's hard to find stolen items. Usually thieves sell them right
away. But that doesn't mean we just file the paperwork and forget
about catching the perpetrator."
"
I misunderstood," I said. "I'm sorry."
Meghan stared at me. So did Officer Danson.
"What?" I asked, feeling a little defensive.
"So I can count on you to leave this burglary investigation to
me?"
"No problem. I won't say another word to the neighbors. Are
you working on this burglary alone?"
"A detective is also assigned, but right now he's busy with other
cases. So I'm taking care of it."
"What's the detective's name?" I asked. Her face reddened, and
she glared at me.
"The department has only one. Detective Ambrose."
No wonder he was so busy. But that didn't explain Danson's
anger.
"But he does know about our break-in yesterday?"
"Well, technically it wasn't a break-in," she said.
"Does he know?" I asked again.
"He should, if he read the shift reports. He works days, and I
work swing."
"So he might not be aware of it?"
"His sergeant would have passed it on, too." A stubborn expression settled on her face
"There was a death in our basement a few days ago," Meghan
said. "Detective Ambrose came to investigate. And Officer-what
was his name, Sophie Mae?"
"Owens," I said.
Danson didn't look happy. "I didn't realize that death occurred
here. You think they're related?"
Before Meghan mentioned Walter's missing papers, I said,
"If we did, we would have said something yesterday." Meghan's
amused look assured me she hadn't planned on spilling the beans.
"It's probably just coincidence. But Detective Ambrose should be
made aware of it."
"Of course. I'll double-check with him."
She turned to go, and Meghan stood. We walked her to the
door, Brodie's nails clicking on the tile entryway as he accompanied us. Before she left, she gave me a hard look.
"I have your word?"
"I said I wouldn't question the neighbors anymore. I won't."
She seemed satisfied with this and walked down the sidewalk to
her patrol car. As we stood in the doorway and watched her drive
away, Meghan asked me if I'd just lied to the nice policewoman.
"Of course not. I promised not to quiz the neighbors about
seeing anyone here during the burglary. She's obviously already
doing that and no doubt better than I could. But that's all I
promised."
Meghan surprised me by saying, "Good. Because somebody
needs to figure this out. If talking to Ambrose about your attempted hit-and-run doesn't work, then it's back to us."
"You really feel that way?"
"We can't just leave it hanging, not if it's hanging over our
heads."
IN THE KITCHEN I made a quick salad, chopped onion, grated
cheese. Upstairs Meghan rousted Erin from her nap and led the
yawning girl to the table. We ladled the fragrant chili into bowls,
topped it with the onions and cheese and sour cream, and dug in.
Someone said hunger makes the best gravy, and I heartily concur. I
didn't think I'd ever eaten food that tasted so good.
The doorbell rang again as I was spreading a second piece of
corn bread with honey-butter. I sighed. Well, at least tonight we'd
actually managed to eat dinner.
Licking my fingers, I got up to answer the door, certain this
time it was Ambrose. But on the doorstep I found Dick and a
woman I assumed was his mother.
"Well, aren't you going to ask us in out of this rain?" This from
the woman, in a querulous voice.
I stepped back from the door, suppressing a sigh.
"Meghan," I called.
"Here," the woman said, thrusting her umbrella and coat at me.
If the rain was that bad, I wondered why she hadn't bothered to
unfurl the umbrella. I took them and laid them across the back
of the chair inside the door, a move that did not meet with the
woman's approval, judging from the look on her face. Dick still
hadn't said a word.
"Richard. And Grace, isn't it? It's been too long," Meghan said
from behind me.
I wouldn't have been surprised to hear Dick's mom respond
that it hadn't been long enough, but she just said "Meghan," and
then, "Where's Erin?"
"She's in here," Meghan said, leading the way to the kitchen.
"We're having dinner. Please join us. It's just chili, but it's good
stuff."
How she could be so gracious was beyond me. In the bright
light of the kitchen I saw it was nearly beyond her, as well. The
strain played across her features as she turned to the cupboard to
get more bowls and plates. I moved toward the silverware drawer.
Under the table, Brodie growled low in his throat.
Dick said, "No, thanks. Mom's not much for chili. We're on our
way to dinner. We were hoping to take Erin with us, but I guess it's
too late."
Meghan stiffened, turned from the cupboard. She hadn't expected this particular kind of end run. I stuck my hand out to
Dick's mom.
"Hi, Mrs. Bly. I'm Sophie Mae Reynolds. It's nice to meet you."
"Not Bly. Not for a long time. Thorson," she said.
I nodded and smiled. She eyed me for a long uncomfortable
moment, then shook my hand. Her skin felt sticky with lotion, and her grip was brutal. I met her eyes and resisted the temptation to
either shake out my hand or wipe it on the leg of my sweatpants.
Grace Thorson was waging quite a war with the natural aging
process. Her hair color, while one found in nature-if you happened to be looking at a blood-orange-would have been more
appropriate gelled and spiked on the lead singer in a punk band
than puffed into this sculpted hairdo on a woman so obviously in
her sixties. Maybe her seventies. I did some quick math and decided it could be either one. Long false eyelashes fanned from eyes
pulled a bit too tight at the temples, and her makeup had been
applied with a heavy, but expert, hand. She wore a black pantsuit,
quite stylish but rather overdone for Cadyville, and high-heeled
pumps that could have come from Frederick's of Hollywood. Even
with the heels she was shorter than me, and scary thin.
Erin had stopped eating and sat watching all this without a
word. It seemed strange behavior for a grandmother to ignore her
granddaughter like that, even for the brief time we'd been in the
kitchen. My grandma would have been all over me as soon as she
walked in the room. Of course, mine wouldn't wait until I was ten
years old to get around to meeting me, either.
"Erin, this is your grandma," Meghan said.
"Hi, Grandma," Erin said in a small voice.
And then, I swear to God, the woman reached down and
pinched Erin's cheek. The effect was surreal; a hackneyed gooeygrandma move from this painted death's-head creature, far more
creepy than affectionate. Erin pulled back and rubbed her face.
"You can call me Grace. I like it better than `Grandma"'
Amused, I looked at Meghan, who still stood by the cupboard.
Any hint of a smile slid from my face when I saw her expression.
My housemate was terrified.
"Well," Dick said to Erin, "Since you've already eaten, how 'bout
you come with us anyway. You can have some big yummy dessert
while we eat."
Erin looked between her parents. "Can I have chocolate cake?"
"Sure! Whatever you want."
"And ice cream?"
"Erin," Meghan said.
"Oh, get off her back. She can have whatever dessert she wants.
C'mon, kiddo," Dick said.
"No," Meghan said.
Erin, already on her feet, paused.
"It's too late for her to go out."
Dick made a show of looking at his watch. "It's only six-thirty,
for God's sake. Lighten up, huh? We're just taking her for dessert.
You wouldn't let me take her out of school for lunch tomorrow-it
was going to be a surprise treat, Erin-and Mother wants to spend
some time with my little angel."
"I'm sorry. She hasn't been feeling well, and she still has some
homework to do for tomorrow."
He rolled his eyes. "Homework. Erin, do you want to do homework? Or would you rather come eat chocolate cake with your
grandmother?"
Erin's gaze shuttled between her mother and father, uncertain.
I wished I could do something, but I couldn't think what.
Mrs. Thorson spoke. "This is ridiculous. We're taking you to a
restaurant, Erin. Get your coat."
Erin responded to the authority in her voice and moved toward
the coat rack in the hallway, albeit slowly.
Meghan shook her head and said firmly, "I'm sorry, but that's
just not going to happen tonight."
"I'm leaving in two days and I'm going to spend some time
with my granddaughter, whether you like it or not. It's my right.
Richard, for heaven's sake, stop being such a wimp and stand up
for yourself. Erin's your daughter. She can't tell you what to do
with your own daughter."
Whoo boy.
And from under the table, Brodie let loose, barking and growling and lunging at Grace Thorson, snapping at the air around her
bony ankles. She screamed and started swinging her purse at him. I
yelled, but Meghan moved. She was calling him off and had hooked
her fingers in his collar, when Richard pulled back his booted foot
to kick the little dog. Erin screamed from the doorway.
"No, Daddy! No! Don't hurt him!" She ran into the room and
flung herself on the floor between her dog and her father.
Irritated, Dick brought his foot back to the floor. "I wasn't
going to hurt him. What's wrong with the little fu ... guy, anyway?
He always behaved when I lived here."
Meghan ignored him, calming Brodie in a shaky voice and
leading him to the laundry room. He continued to grumble low
in his throat.
"That beast is a menace and should be put down. Stupid beast
tried to bite me, and biting dogs cannot be allowed to live. Richard, you must see to it." The crotchety old bat stuck her pointy
little chin out to emphasize her point.
Erin, still sitting on the floor, looked terrified.
Meghan shut the door. "I think that reaction is a bit strong,
Grace. Brodie didn't bite you-he's never bitten anyone."
Grace sniffed. "He's vicious. Any fool can see that. Now, Erin,
get up from that floor. We're going for dessert."
Meghan's head whipped around, but Erin said, "No, thank you.
I need to get my homework done for tomorrow."
"You can do your homework when you get back. You're in
what, fifth grade? It can't be that hard. Come on."
Erin shook her head, still sitting on the floor. Meghan had
moved to squat beside her. "I don't want to."
"What? I don't care if you want to or not! Children don't know
what they want. Now stop this-"
Meghan stood up and turned on the older woman. "Get...
out... of... my... house. Now. If you don't leave immediately, I'll
call the police, so help me."