Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes (18 page)

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Authors: Denise Grover Swank

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #A Rose Gardner Mystery Book One

BOOK: Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
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“No, Ashley, that’s make believe. Princes don’t do that in real life.”

“Hmm…” she said, lying on her back.

I was grateful she was four years old and didn’t comprehend the meaning of my words.

I was gonna die.

Suddenly, prison looked pretty good.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

There’s something freeing about knowing the date of your death. All your fears of living vanish away. Worried you’ll be in a car wreck? Afraid you’ll fall off a roof and plummet to your death? Unless it was June twelfth, I had nothing to worry about.

It was also strange, like somewhere a big digital display counted down the moments until I died. I didn’t know the time, but I knew the day. I had less than a week left and I was done frittering my life away.

Where did I start? What did I do? The list, of course. All the things I’d always wanted to do but was too afraid to try. Twenty-three tasks left to accomplish in five days. Why was I wasting time in Ashley’s bed?

I scrambled up, kissing Ashley on the forehead. “Aunt Rose has to go home, Ashy!”

When I bolted down the hall, Violet looked like I had just announced plans to join the circus. “Where are you
going
?”

“Home,” I said, grabbing my purse.

“What? You can’t go there! What if someone tries to break in again?” Her voice rose in panic.

I yanked her into a tight hug. “It’s okay, Violet. I’ll be all right.” I didn’t add
for another five days anyway.
No sense worrying her any more than necessary.

“But, Rose…”

“I love you, Violet!” I yelled over my shoulder and headed to my car.

I tried to remember my list, hoping to do something on the way home.
Get cable
… I picked up my cell phone and found the number for the cable company. They said they’d send someone to install it the next day. I had to ask off work to meet the cable installer, then decided to call in sick for the entire week. I sure wasn’t going to waste my last five days at the DMV.

Get my own place
… Violet said she would sell the house to me, so that made it mine. Two items just like that. Maybe this would be easier than I thought.

As I drove through downtown, I noticed a pickup truck stopped at the edge of the park. The tailgate hung open and a large metal cage sat in the grass. A puppy romped next to it.

Get a dog
.

I turned around and drove back to the truck, parking to the side of it. A family with two small children played with the puppy. A bigger dog, but not by much, sulked in the corner of the cage when I walked up.

“Can we get him, Daddy?” the little boy asked the man who appeared torn.

He bent over, rubbing the back of the puppy’s neck. “Well…”

The boy and his younger brother began a chorus of pleases that would have softened the staunchest of men. The father caved.

I watched it all transpire, taking delight in the children’s happiness. The way the puppy’s owner kept glancing at me I realized I probably looked like some kind of child predator standing there.

“Is that your last dog?” I asked, looping my hand around the strap of my purse.

“That’s my last puppy. I’ve only got the mother left. She’s just a mutt, though. Nobody wants her. I was gonna drop her off at the shelter on my way home.”

I looked down at the whimpering dog in the cage. She was small, definitely a mutt and not cute like her offspring. Her gray and black fur was short and wiry. She had short legs, a long body, and pointy ears and snout. She looked like a cross between a terrier and a rat.

“Can I see her?”

The owner looked at me like I’d lost my mind, which I supposed I had. I knelt down. “What’s her name?”

“Muffy.”

“Come here, Muffy,” I beckoned, patting the ground. “Come here, sweet girl.”

The dog crept toward me, her head hunkered down and her tail between her legs. She stopped at the opening of the cage. I stroked her neck and behind her ears. She cautiously left the cage and sat next to me while I continued to pet her.

“She’s a good dog,” the owner said. “She’s scared of other dogs, which don’t work out so well on my farm. In fact, she’s pretty much scared of everythin’. I'm surprised she came out of the cage to you. She don't normally take to strangers.”

Muffy’s sad eyes looked up at me. My tummy tightened with empathy. We were a lot alike, Muffy and I, both afraid of the world and what was in it.

“How much is she?” I asked, taking the sides of her face into my hands.

“I ain’t gonna charge you nothin’, you can just have her. Like I said, I was gonna take her to the pound, although, honestly, I didn’t want to do that. She just showed up at my farm one day and had a litter of pups a couple days later. I kept her and the pups until they was ready to go.”

“What do you say, Muffy? Wanna come home with me?” I could have sworn she wagged her tail, or she may have moved it to pass gas, which was highly probable from the stench suddenly filling the air. I decided to go with the wag.

I tried coaxing her into the car without much success. Finally, I scooped her up, surprised to find her lighter than she looked, and plopped her into the driver’s seat. She peered up at me.

“You gonna drive? That’d be a sight. A driving dog. What? No? Then scoot over.” But she didn't budge, so I sat on the edge of the seat and pushed her over to the passenger side with my hip.

The farmer loaded up the cage, laughing.

“We’re puttin’ on a show, Muffy. Let’s go home and get some dinner.”

I drove with the windows halfway down. Muffy stuck her face over the top of the glass, her tongue hanging out. I prayed she didn’t get carsick.

When I pulled up, I noticed Joe’s car in his driveway.
Why’re you even looking
? That man was a confusing mess. I only had five days left. Instinct told me that wasn’t nearly enough time to figure out Joe McAllister.

I carried Muffy into the house. After I set her down on the kitchen floor, she began sniffing everything while I rummaged through the refrigerator for dinner. I couldn’t remember the last time I went to the grocery store.

“Whatcha want for dinner, Muffy? There’s not much here.”

Muffy didn’t answer. She turned around in circles, then sat in the corner of the kitchen behind the table. She laid her head on her front paws and stared up at me. I’d never seen such a pathetic sight in all my life.

I made scrambled eggs and fed half to Muffy, half to me. Afterward, Muffy got a really strange look on her face. Uncle Earl had made a face like that after eating a batch of bad pickles once and that didn’t turn out so well. I ran to my bedroom and found a belt, which I strapped around Muffy’s middle section. I was afraid I’d choke her if I put it around her neck.

We barely made it outside before Muffy squatted next to a bush and made the nastiest mess I had ever seen. Talk about false advertising. They forget to mention that part of pet ownership in the dog food commercials.

“Feel better?” I asked Muffy in a baby voice. “I promise to take good care of you in the five days I have left.” It was then I realized in five days I wouldn't be around to take care of her. I’d been a pet owner for less than an hour and I was already failing miserably.

“What do you mean you only have five days left?”

I whipped my head around to see Joe a few feet away.

Crappy doodles
.

He looked angry. Not just angry, menacing.

“Where you goin’ in five days, Rose?”

“Nowhere. Not that it’s any of your business, Joe McAllister.”

He heaved a sigh and kicked a piece of gravel. “You’re right, of course. What you do is none of my business.” Then he stood next to me, whispering in my ear. “You seem like a nice girl, Rose, I hate to see you mixed up in something really messy.”

His breath sent chills down my back, all the way to my toes. How could this man do this to me? What on earth was he talking about? Then I realized he was looking toward the dog and the huge pile she just made.

“I admit it was kind of impulsive to get into such a commitment, but I think I can handle it.”

Joe stepped away, his eyes wide open, like he’d stepped into a pit of rattlesnakes. “So you admit you’re involved?”

“Well, yeah. The evidence is right in front of you.” I tugged on Muffy’s belt. “Come on, Muffy. Let’s go in the back.” I yanked and pulled and ended up dragging her to the backyard. Unfortunately, Joe followed me.

“What are you thinking, Rose? Do you realize what kind of trouble you’ve got yourself into?”

“Joe, seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Lots of people do it.”

He raised his hands to his head and groaned, spinning around in frustration. He stopped and looked more serious than I had ever seen him, even more than the night Momma was murdered. “I’ve got to get you out of this. Maybe it’s not too late.”

I huffed and stamped my foot. “You seriously think I can’t handle a dog? Do I appear
that
irresponsible?”

Joe turned as pale as a ghost and I expected him to fold up and float away any minute. “A
dog
?” he choked out. “You’re talking about a
dog
?”

“I know dogs are lots of trouble but I’ve always wanted one and I figured, why not? I’m a grown woman.”

Joe looked torn between guilt and relief.

I cocked my head to the side and studied him. “Wait, what were
you
talkin’ about?”

An ornery grin lifted one corner of his mouth as he lifted an eyebrow and darted his eyes toward Muffy. “You call that thing a dog? Looks like a ginormous rat to me.” And what on earth do you have around that poor creature’s gut?”

I took offense to him insulting my dog and put my hand on my hip, glaring. “First of all, she is not a rat; she is a
dog
. Granted she’s not some pedigreed foofoo dog, but she’s my dog. And second, it all happened so fast, I didn't have time to get her any supplies, so I put a belt around her to bring her out. I was afraid she’s run away.”

“Why’s it around her stomach and not her neck?”

“I was worried I’d choke her.”

Joe snickered. “That is the
ugliest
dog I have ever seen.”

“You hush! Muffy can hear you!”


Muffy
?”

“Yes, Muffy. And quit insulting her. She has a very delicate temperament.” I lifted my chin to show my distain. At that moment, Muffy squatted and let out the loudest fart I had ever heard, accompanied by the nastiest and worst smelling pile I had ever experienced. The reek of it filled the space around us and I couldn’t help fanning in front of my nose.
Traitor
.

Joe started belly laughing, leaning over his legs.

I was getting angrier by the minute. “What’s so funny?”

“Your delicate dog.” He said in bursts of laughter.

“Come on, Muffy, we don’t have to take this.” I gave the belt a tug and Muffy farted again.

I thought Joe was going to fall over. I wished he would so I could kick him. Afraid to pull on her again, I gave her a tug anyway and the air filled with stench.

Joe gasped for breath. “You should put her on one of those shows like World’s Amazing Pets. Muffy will make you a fortune.”

I couldn’t help but smile. It was kind of funny. “So Muffy has a flatulence problem. I’ll just put her on a high fiber diet.”

I started giggling then, and we sat on the lawn, both of us laughing together in my backyard. It felt so good to share something funny with someone. I wanted lots of laughter to fill my last five days, but the thought of it suddenly sobered me.

There was always the chance it wouldn't come true, like the last vision of my death. But I knew that was a fluke. The majority of my visions came true. And since I had no idea how to change it, I had to accept it for what it was.

“Hey, ” I said, realizing Joe had distracted me. “If you weren’t talkin’ about Muffy earlier, what were you talkin’ about?”

His smile disappeared. He hesitated before he asked, “Who said I wasn’t talkin’ about Muffy?”

I shot him a nasty look. “I’m not an idiot, Joe.”

He leaned toward me and whispered into my ear. “No, but you are beautiful.” His head stayed there, his breath warming my cheek and neck. Every nerve of my body jumped to full alert.

“I like your dog. I think she’s full of potential.” His voice was low and husky in my ear.

I had a hard time concentrating. “Why did you leave last night?” I asked, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Because I was a fool. What man could leave you?” He put his finger on my chin and turned my face toward his.

“Why do you keep changin’ the subject?” I whispered.

His eyes watched my mouth, then raised. “Why do you keep askin’ questions?” His head lowered slowly until his lips were on mine. I forgot about questions. I even forgot about Muffy until she howled.

I jerked away, startled. “What? What’s wrong?” I asked her.

Joe laughed. “I don’t think she likes me kissin’ you.”

I reached over and rubbed her head. “It’s okay, baby. The big bad man isn’t kissin’ me anymore.”

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