Ten Little Bloodhounds (26 page)

As I worked to silence the mournful cry, I observed several faces turned toward Tom. It was the women. They were glaring at him, letting him know that they knew he was a pervert and a stalker. The men seemed doubtful and embarrassed. They wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Any second now they would wake up and begin to rally around the male accused. I had to stop it before it got started.

“Tom, you have been positively identified in front of witnesses. You can be convicted of entering Alice Mae’s residence and stalking her. I’m advising her to apply for a restraining order tomorrow. If you are seen within fifty yards of this residence, you will be arrested and tried under the new stalking act. I suggest you leave immediately.”

Amid soft mutterings and glares, he rose and faced Alice Mae.

“I want you to tell me you don’t really believe this garbage and that animal that slobbered all over me. What’s gotten into you? Why didn’t you ask me if I was coming over uninvited, and if I was following you, huh?”

His cheeks and ears had reddened with anger. She
rose from her seat and glared at him.

“I believe the dog and will get a restraining order tomorrow, or Monday, if I have to wait until then. I want you out of my house, and don’t you ever speak to me again!”

She was trembling but resolute. Tom stumbled past her without another word and left, slamming the door behind him.

I’ve been known to clear a room pretty fast working alone, but Bobby Lee and I working in tandem have to hold the record. Within ten minutes it was only Alice Mae, Bobby Lee, and me.

I helped her clean up the party debris and walked her around the house to spend the night with her mother. I told her I would go with her to secure a restraining order, and she said she would call me if she needed me.

I arrived home at a little after ten, and saw that Jasmine was home and had company. I counted the vehicles as Bobby Lee and I walked from the garage to the back porch. A pickup with a cab over camper, another pickup, a small motor home, and two cars. I smiled ruefully. She was having a party and I wasn’t invited. Her college friends, no doubt. I wouldn’t have fit in anyway. Six years is a large gap when you’re still in school. Her friends and I would have little in common to talk about.

My leg was back to normal. I still had a slight limp when I was tired. It was from the deep bruising, so that meant no dancing. I wasn’t missing much. I still resented not being asked. I wished she would be sensible; I was tired of this feud. I wanted her back as my friend. I sighed as I gathered my stacks of papers and headed for the bedroom. I would read another file
tonight. Tomorrow I would bite the bullet, apologize to Jasmine, and get our relationship back on track.

This plan buoyed my spirits and I read for the next two hours. I decided I could eliminate Cynthia Cancannon Ross, Steven’s wife, for mostly the same reasons that I had crossed him off my list of suspects. She also had a very good alibi for the twenty-four hours in question, and also didn’t have time enough to travel so far. I crossed off number nine on my list and turned out my light. After consideration of all the facts, I was pleased to be able to shorten the list.
And then there were eight.

I
put my feet on the desk and sat tilted backward at a precarious angle. I rubbed my eyes and looked out the office window at the gorgeous Indian summer day. It was warm with a fresh breeze, a perfect day for a picnic. Unfortunately, I didn’t know a soul to call and invite to one. I was feeling impatient with Jasmine. Since I had decided to apologize to her, she hadn’t even shown her face this morning. It must have been a late, late night last night. I just wanted to get the apology behind me and move on.

I walked out to the back porch and stared at her stairs, hoping my apparent interest would make her appear at the window. No such luck. I continued across the courtyard and found Wayne and Donnie Ray playing computer games in Wayne’s office.

“Have either of you seen Jasmine this morning?”

They shook their heads negatively.

“Her car was gone when I went to pick up the papers. I noticed because her garage door was open, and she always keeps it closed.” Wayne shrugged. “Maybe she went to church this morning.”

“What time did you fetch the papers?”

“A little after six.”

“Not hardly. Easter’s the only day you go to church before daybreak. She must have gone home with some of her party people.”

“Party people?” Donnie Ray seemed surprised. “She had a party last night?”

“Yep, they must have come after you two left. I went to the bedroom to read in bed, and didn’t hear them leave.”

“We didn’t see them. We came home at one, and all the lights were off.” Wayne looked thoughtful. “Did anything else happen yesterday, another quarrel or something?”

“No, Wayne, our relationship was the same as Friday and all of last week. She’ll be back this afternoon.”

I sounded more confident than I felt. My stomach churned.

Back in the office I settled with my tall stack of papers, and read every scrap of information on the third name on my list, Cathy Cancannon Kingsley, Bethesda, Maryland, who had been home alone. Feeling hungry, I made two sandwiches out of the small beef pot roast that Rosie had brought over yesterday, and ate them while I read.

After four hours, I had read her entire file and matched the time during the crucial period to her phone
calls. There was no way this woman was guilty. She didn’t have time to plan and commit a murder. She volunteered for every club, charity, and function in Washington, D.C., plus Bethesda. Her phone bill listed twenty-nine calls she had made during the crucial period, and the detectives had interviewed each recipient. I felt nary a qualm about eliminating her name from the list.
And then there were seven.

I tried to study Cathy’s husband Larry Kingsley’s file, but my eyes kept wandering to my watch, and my ears were cocked for the sound of Jasmine’s return. I stepped over Bobby Lee’s tail. He was stretched out full length and snoring softly. I wandered to the window and gazed with unseeing eyes in the direction of Jasmine’s staircase.

I went back to my chair and tried to talk myself out of what I had decided to do as I pulled open the shallow middle drawer of my desk. I reached way in the back, searching for Jasmine’s spare key to her apartment. She had left it with me when she moved in. My finger located the cold metal object and I drew it out slowly.

If she comes home and catches you, you’ll be sorry!
My mind warned.
Shut up!
I admonished. I detoured to the kitchen and took two Alka-Seltzers.

I marched up the stairs, held the screen door open, inserted the key, and hesitated. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Jasmine?” I called softly. I didn’t expect an answer. I was several steps into the room when I paused. Jasmine didn’t live here anymore. The furniture was still here because it belonged to me. She had picked out the style she liked. All the other things she had added in the
past two years, a Tiffany-like table lamp, pictures, tossed pillows, and her glass figurines, were absent.

I started humming an aimless tune under my breath as I toured the other rooms. I couldn’t remember the title or any of the lyrics. I hummed a few bars over and over as I noticed small details. She had changed the kitchen cabinet’s shelf paper. The last one I had noticed had been blue. This new pattern was yellow and brightened the small, empty, clean, and sterile surroundings. I moved to the bathroom. The shower curtain of small lavender flowers was also new. I guess she didn’t have time to wash the old one. The medicine cabinet was empty except for a small blue bowl of potpourri. The dried petals’ attar of roses filled the compact room with its pleasant scent.

The tiny bedroom looked larger with only the white mattress covers and white mini-blinds. There was no color in the room. With the drapes, matching bedspread, and the pictures missing, it looked barren and deserted. I locked the door and left.

Downstairs, Wayne and Donnie Ray were feeding puppies when I walked into the grooming room. I couldn’t look them in the eye and deliver my news. I picked up a squirmy bundle of wrinkles and spoke in his ear as I was looking at nothing on the far wall.

“Jasmine has moved out, bag and baggage. I’m sure she won’t be back. Wayne, you’ll have to adjust for her absence the best you can. Give me her sweeps and her puppy feedings. Donnie Ray, you’ll have to assume her training schedule for now.”

I returned the puppy to the cart, turned on my heel, and got out of there. I couldn’t bear to hear how they
felt about me. I knew they would blame me for driving her away. I would have to face them, but I wanted it to happen later, not this minute. I had to call Hank. He would get her back for me.

I reached his answering machine at home, and left an urgent request for him to call me ASAP. I had a pan of store-bought biscuits in the oven, and was nuking the beef roast when he returned my call at six-thirty.

“I need a favor, Hank,” I began.

“I didn’t think you were calling to discuss world events,” he retorted. “What now?”

“I need you to find Jasmine for me.”

I heard a thud, and knew he had dropped his booted feet from his desktop to the floor.

“Jasmine is missing? Since when? What happened?”

“She had some people over Saturday evening. I guess they helped her pack. I went over about one this afternoon, and all her things are gone. You have to help me get her back. You can put out an all-points bulletin on her, can’t you? Find her for me, and I will talk her into coming back.”

“Let me see if I understand what you’re saying,” he said in a more relaxed tone of voice. “She packed and left on her own, no one forced her, and it was her decision to leave?”

“Yes. How long do you think it will take to find her?”

“I ought to come over there and beat on your bottom! You put it like she had been abducted and scared the hell outta me!”

“You’re wasting time, Hank. She’s been gone—”

“Shut up and listen!” He sounded furious. “You ran
her off with your highfalutin’ ways and acting like you’re always right, when you aren’t, more than half the time. If she calls me, and I hope she will, I’ll tell her the same thing. I’m glad she’s had enough of you, and I wish her every success. She’s smart, and too good for you. Now you’ll know what it feels like to be dumped and deserted.”

I held the receiver tightly and let him have his say. I didn’t try to stop him or object to any of his remarks.

“Are you finished?” My voice was polite.

“I’m surprised that you let me finish. Why didn’t you hang up, like you usually do, when you don’t want to hear what I’m saying?”

“I didn’t hang up because everything you said is true. I should have apologized to her when the incident first happened, but I didn’t, so I have to live with the aftermath. I also want to apologize to you, Hank. I’ve treated you real shabby.”

“Ah, Jo Beth, you’re making me feel sorry for you when I should be mad. Don’t be trying to sweet-talk me.”

“I’m not doing that, Hank. Honest. I know I have been hanging on the fence too long, trying to keep you in reserve and not being able to make up my mind. This isn’t right. I hope we can be good friends, Hank, for the rest of our lives, and not just because you’re the sheriff, and can do favors for me—”

“Hold it right there!” He suddenly sounded hoarse. “Don’t say the words that I think you’re gonna say. String me along, lie to me, or just let it alone for a while, but please … don’t end it.”

“Don’t make it any harder than it is, Hank. I want
you for a friend. I’m not the one for you. Find a nice woman and have lots of babies. I wish you a happy life.”

“This rollercoaster romance, on and off and on again, hasn’t been a picnic. I want you to search your heart and be very sure, Jo Beth. Last call for love, fidelity, and adoration for all the rest of my allotted days.”

“I’m sure, Hank.”

“I’m shaking like a leaf,” he admitted, half in sorrow and half in jest. “You’re my friend for life. So long, kid.”

“Good-bye, Hank.” He wasn’t the only one shaking. My hand was far from steady as I replaced the phone.

I
felt more organized this morning than I really was. I was Ms. Efficiency personified. The computer entry tray was bare. Wayne and I had met at seven, and my schedule for the week was listed in my daily planner. I had toured the kennel and had a nice chat with Harvey, my vet. We agreed that the dogs were healthy and the masterpiece litter were gaining nicely and looking like champions already. We were kidding each other. It would be months before their stance, bone structure, and even their amount of wrinkles could be judged and evaluated. We were literally whistling in the dark, hoping that by saying they were perfect often enough, it would become gospel.

I decided to beard the lion in its den. I dialed Susan’s number.

“Am I still on your list of people that you don’t talk
to, or am I forgiven?” I asked contritely when she answered.

“At this stage of my life, I can’t be too choosy with my short list of friends, so you’re back in my good graces. How’ve you been?”

“Do you know of anyone who needs to rent a small apartment?”

“I can always count on you to keep me supplied with news. You know how I hate facing Monday mornings without plenty of weekend gossip. Whose apartment is involved, who left, and why?”

“Mine, Jasmine, and because I never apologized to her.”

“Oh God,” she moaned softly. “You really tore it this time!”

“Yes, indeedy,” I agreed.

“Is she really and truly gone, as in ‘Gone, gone, gone’? or did she leave something essential that she has to come back for, thus giving you a chance to talk her into coming back?”

Susan had just put a name on the tune I had been incessantly humming since I had viewed Jasmine’s empty apartment. Knowing the title might help me erase it from my mind.