Murder on the Hoof: A Mystery (Colleen McCabe Series) (20 page)

“What’s this really about?” Lane asked, drawing her attention back to the veranda.

Bill leaned against the railing and gestured to a rocker near where Sparky was tied up. “Have a seat.”

As the actor sat, Bill glanced at Rodney, and the deputy quietly moved so that he was positioned behind and to the right of Lane. Perfect, she thought. Rodney would have a clear view of Lane’s profile and could compare it to the photographs while Bill questioned him. She caught Bill’s eye and pointed to the rocker next to Lane. He nodded.

“You like dogs?” she asked Lane, taking the rocker next to him and petting Sparky’s head. Though it may have seemed so, it wasn’t a random question. She could tell a lot about a person by how he related to animals.

“Had a beagle years ago. Caesar. Boy, could he get into trouble. He used to climb the chain-link fence, prowl the neighborhood for lady friends, and then, after making his rounds, climb the fence and act like nothing had happened. It took me weeks before I caught him.”

That sounded like a beagle. They were smart, crafty dogs that often got into mischief.

“Speaking of lady friends,” Bill said. “Why don’t you tell me about you and Doris.”

Lane squirmed in his rocker. “What do you want to know?”

Bill shifted his weight. She could see he had little patience.

“We understand you and Doris spent some time together,” she said, trying to put it as delicately as possible.

“Rehearsals take a lot of time.”

“It’s not that type of time we’re talking about,” Bill said. “Care to try again?”

She glanced over Lane’s head at Rodney, who had been slowly flipping through the photographs. He shook his head no and kept flipping. She moved her rocker to face Lane.

“Did you and Doris ever get together outside of rehearsal?” she asked, and gazed steadily into his eyes. She saw his pupils dilate and, in that instance, knew he knew the secret was out.

“It was one time,” he said. “I swear. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“Why only one time?” Bill asked, unfolding his arms.

Lane rubbed Sparky’s head. “I don’t want to speak ill of the departed,” he said softly.

Colleen, Bill, and Rodney looked at one another.

“We’re not asking you to speak ill of her,” she said. “All Sheriff Dorman wants is the truth.”

The actor exhaled deeply. “Doris … well … she told me that she was looking for something she wasn’t getting at home. I thought that meant love, affection. I soon learned she and I had very different ideas of what affection meant.”

“Different how?” Bill asked.

“She wanted to be more … adventurous. I wasn’t interested in what she had in mind.”

“You sure it’s not the other way around?” Bill asked, unconvinced.

“I’m a romantic, Sheriff Dorman. I like seeing women in dresses, all made up and wearing jewelry. I pull out chairs, open doors, buy them roses. I don’t relish the idea of hurting them.”

“That’s what Doris wanted?”

Lane nodded. “When I refused, she tried to provoke me and threatened to tell her husband. I felt sorry for her. She was a lovely woman. What happened to make her want a man to treat her like that?”

Nobody said anything. Nobody moved. Even Sparky stopped scratching and lay still. The revelation was stunning, but not because of its sensational nature. It was because they all sensed that it was the truth. As if to confirm Lane’s innocence, Rodney closed the folder and shook his head. None of the ears depicted in the photographs was a match.

“I saw bruises, Sheriff, but they didn’t come from me,” Lane said. “For what it’s worth, I’m deeply saddened by her passing.”

That makes two of us, Colleen thought. Lane had said everything she needed to hear. As far as she was concerned, the only thing Lane was guilty of was having a fling with a troubled woman. She felt bad for him … and for Doris. Movement from inside the building grabbed her attention. She peered into the doorway opening and caught Rita’s eye.

“What is it?” she asked.

The costumer nervously stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to interrupt. Adam was wondering if Lane would be returning to rehearsal.”

Everyone looked at Bill. “One more question,” he said. “You and Rich ever have a run-in?”

“I should go,” Rita said.

“It’s okay, Rita,” Lane said, and turned to Bill. “There wasn’t a member of our group who I respected more than Rich Bailey, Sheriff. Ask anyone.”

Bill studied him a moment and then said, “You can go.”

Lane rose and moved toward the door with Rita.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Rita said to Colleen. “Adam says he has something for you, if you have a second.”

“Me?” she asked, surprised.

Rita nodded and disappeared inside.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Colleen said to Bill. “I’ve got a theory I’d like to share with you.” She entered the Whalehead Club to find out what Adam could possibly have to give her.

“Fawn, Lane, Myrtle, and Nellie, can I have you take places?” Adam said as she entered the library.

Nellie’s and Myrtle’s tap shoes clicked as they made their way to the front of the fireplace. Fawn positioned herself offstage. Lane took his place downstage.

“Sam, we’ll hold off on all the effects for a moment. Oh, and Rita, the costumes look great.”

Sam gave Adam a salute and Rita beamed. They may pull this show off yet, Colleen thought. She rapidly crossed to the director, not wanting to interrupt.

“You have something for me?”

Adam removed an envelope from his back pocket. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

“What is it?” she asked, feeling a small object inside.

“The footage from your training exercise on the beach. It’s on an SD card, so you can just pop it into your computer. I skimmed through to make sure it all recorded. Hope it helps.”

“Thanks. I completely forgot,” she said, placing it in her back pocket. “I’m sure it will be quite instructive.”

“I hope we did a good job for you,” Nellie said.

“Of course we did,” Myrtle said, as if they could do anything but.

“You’ll let us know when you’re going to show it,” Rita chimed in.

“I’ll see what I can do. Have a great rehearsal,” she said, and left.

She returned to Bill and Sparky, who had been waiting for her on the porch.

“Where’s Rodney?” she asked.

“He had to take care of a call. So, what’s this theory of yours?”

She unleashed Sparky and motioned for Bill to join her on the lawn, away from the Whalehead Club. Movement in a window caught her eye. Was that Kyle spying on them out the window? Or someone from the acting troupe? She blinked, and then the person was gone.

“Something Kyle said got me thinking.… Maybe we need to broaden our list of suspects, consider more than the theater group members.”

“What did he say?”

“He was angry that the Board let Rich talk them into allowing the group to use the Whalehead Club. I don’t think he intended for me to overhear him.”

“I’m not sure that makes him a suspect.”

“But he has been present while they’ve been rehearsing, and who knows the building better than someone who works here? He would have known about the elevator.”

Bill considered what she had said. “Okay. It doesn’t feel right, but I’ll talk to him again.”

She gazed at the clouds blocking out the last hint of sunset. “I don’t think Lane did it.”

“He’s a logical suspect,” he said.

She couldn’t argue with that. Still, her gut told her he was innocent—at least of murder. “What a love triangle,” she said.

“Uh, yeah.”

Her mind drifted to their romantic situation and how Hayley’s arrival had set her relationship with Bill back. Or had it? Didn’t Hayley tell her that Bill had talked about her? Would he have done that if he still had feelings for his ex? And would Hayley have told Colleen about the conversation if she still had feelings for him? She stole a look at him. Maybe it was the setting sun or the breeze or the sight of the swans swimming in the sound, but her heart beat a little faster. Perhaps she should be the brave one and make the first move.

“Listen, Bill,” she began but was interrupted when her phone rang. It was the station. “Everything okay?” she asked, picking up.

“Got some calls about UFOs or floating objects coming from somewhere off of Lighthouse,” Jimmy said. “Sounds like Chinese lanterns again.”

Her talk with Bill would have to wait. “I’m on my way,” she said, and hung up. “I gotta go. Jimmy thinks someone’s releasing Chinese lanterns.”

“That seems to be popular lately.”

“Unfortunately,” she said. “Let’s talk later, okay?”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

She touched his arm. “Not about the case.”

His eyes crinkled into the smile she loved so much. “That would be nice,” he said.

She grinned, whistled for Sparky, jogged with him to her vehicle, and hopped in. She flipped on her emergency lights and left the park. It was time to stop some well-meaning vacationers from burning somebody’s house down.

Chapter 16

“Paper cannot wrap up
a fire” was a famous Chinese proverb and one Colleen thought must have been created by a firefighter. She found it curious that the same culture that had brought the world this saying had also given it the flickering lanterns that were now drifting heavenward over the sandy dunes of Corolla. She also considered it a sign that the truth would soon come out—like fire burning away paper—and that the identity of their killer would be revealed.

She peered out her window and traced the dotted pattern of lights that danced across the night sky. She had to admit there was something magical about the lanterns carrying people’s wishes for fortune and health and romance upward on the colorful paper. But whether she liked the balloons or not, they were a fire hazard. All it would take was a strong wind to tilt the delicate structure and the paper would ignite, the lantern would fall with the flame still lit, and a roof or dune grass would catch fire.

She slowed her vehicle and crept along the rows of oceanside homes, waiting to see another balloon take flight. Then she spotted the flashing lights of one of the station’s vehicles in front of a house down the road and knew her guys had found where the lanterns were being released.

She pulled behind the engine at the house and hopped from the vehicle, with Sparky right behind her. She sent him to search the grounds. The dog had a special ability to detect embers, and she wanted him on the job in case anything had already fallen back to earth.

“Don’t go too far,” she said, and patted him on the rump. His tail wagged and he put his nose to the ground. There was nothing a Border collie enjoyed more than having a job.

She gazed at the house as she walked up the driveway. This has to be one of Pinky’s, she thought. Its scale was grand and a chandelier shined through an enormous arched window over the front door. She noted several vehicles were discreetly parked behind slatted fencing under the house, but she couldn’t make out what type they were. If they were minivans, it could mean several families were vacationing together. If they were pickups, it might mean sportsmen, although she didn’t imagine Chinese lanterns were their style. She climbed the stairs. She’d find out soon enough.

As she reached the top step, she heard laughter from behind the front door, which stood ajar. She pushed it open and entered the foyer.

“Here’s my favorite fire chief,” Pinky said, crossing to greet her with a glass of champagne in hand, as if she were late to a party.

She glanced around the great room. Kenny and Jason were sharing a laugh with Hayley, while Jimmy spoke with Wendy.

“Champagne?” Pinky asked, smiling warmly at her.

“Really,” she said, suspecting he had been the lantern supplier. “You should know better.”

“Are you talking about the champagne or the lanterns?” he asked with a wink.

“Both. I thought we were past smoke signals.”

He grinned. “A variation on an old theme.”

Pinky was nothing if not consistent and persistent. “You’re supposed to be checking on Hayley,” she whispered.

“This
is
how I check on people.”

“Is that the fire chief?” Hayley said from across the room. “You and your men are so sweet to come out.”

Colleen climbed two steps and joined everyone in the great room. “It’s not about being sweet; it’s about safety. But I understand you weren’t the source of the sky lanterns, so I’ll spare you the speech,” she said, directing her comment to Pinky.

“What can I say? If I don’t see your beautiful face often enough, I suffer withdrawal,” he teased.

She felt her cheeks warm from blushing. Kenny and Jimmy snickered. Wendy raised her brows in amused surprise.

“Maybe you should schedule Salvatore into your rounds,” Kenny joked.

Jimmy hit him on the arm. “Lay off the chief.” It was one thing to tease at the station, another thing in front of citizens.

Colleen caught Hayley studying her.

“So,” she said, wanting to get the focus back on the job at hand. “No more lanterns. And Pinky, if you need our help, you know the station’s number.”

Pinky pretended to straighten up like a scolded schoolboy. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“All right, fellas. Party’s over. Let’s head back,” she said, and motioned for them to exit.

“Colleen,” Hayley said. “Might I have a word with you?”

“I’ll meet you back at the station, guys,” she called to Jimmy and Kenny as they left.

Hayley turned to Jason. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Ms. McCabe in private.”

“How about another drink?” Pinky said to Jason, and they joined Wendy in the kitchen.

“Thank you for stopping by,” Hayley said once she and Colleen were alone.

“I’m here because the call came in about the lanterns.”

Hayley put a hand on a hip and narrowed her eyes. “You and Mr. Salvatore seem to have a special bond.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it a bond,” Colleen said, amused.

“What would you call it?”

She wondered what business it was of Hayley’s what her relationship was with Pinky. “Why are you so interested?” she asked, trying not to be annoyed.