Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

BOOK: Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2)
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13
Fishing For Information

Annie’s eyelids fluttered open for the second time since she’d gone to sleep and found her mother again, though, thankfully, this time she was fully dressed and carrying coffee. “I thought you might like a cup before you had to come downstairs and deal with our guests,” she explained. “Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting all of them to be up so early, but I had barely even poured my first cup of coffee and wouldn’t you know that Marie woman was standing right there in the kitchen behind me, creeping around like some sort of ghost.”

Annie sat up and saw that her mother had brought two cups of coffee. “I’ll just drink this up here and then we can go down and sort out breakfast.”

“Mama, that’s not like you. You’re normally the life of the party, the friendliest gal in the room. What’s got you so riled up? Is it the fire?” She took her coffee from Bessie and put it to her lips, inhaling the sweet, rich scent before taking a sip. It was perfect, two sugars and cream, and she’d need lots of it if she wanted to make it through the day. Sleep had eluded her for a while after she’d returned to bed, and once she finally fell into a slumber, it was wrought with nightmare images of flames and her dead husband’s coffin.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bessie admitted. “I just feel like my nerves are on edge. Ever since that fella drowned in the pond, I just can’t help but think that this place really is cursed.”

Annie groaned. “No, Mama, not you, too! Listen, that man didn’t drown. You know that Emmett thinks he was killed by somebody he double-crossed or conned out of some money. That sort of thing could happen absolutely anywhere.”

“Yes, but it happened here,” Bessie countered, “and that Anderson woman was killed here--”

“By her greedy, deranged fiance,” Annie said, “which was unfortunate but again, had nothing to do with any sort of curse. If you ask me, it says more about the state of the world today than it does about this place.” Annie finished her coffee and sat the cup on the bedside table. “I’m going to jump in the shower. You can hide in here from some made-up curse if you want, or you can go downstairs and start breakfast. Personally, I’m starving, and I’m sure Rory would love a cup of coffee.”

Annie’s guilt-trip worked beautifully. “Fine,” Bessie huffed, “but if you find my dead body down there--”

“I’ll bury you up on the hill next to Rose,” Annie joked.

Bessie looked as though she might say something more or at least spit out a snappy comeback, but she simply shook her head and left the bedroom, carrying Annie’s empty mug with her.

By the time Annie made her way downstairs, Bessie was her usual, cheerful self, albeit a little more quiet than usual. Since breakfast wasn’t usually served until a little later, Annie suggested that the guests take coffee out on the front porch.

“It will give me a chance to sort out the fishing rods, too,” she explained. Frank was eager to embark on his fishing trip and Rob had decided to join them. Annie was amused, but not shocked when Kizzy announced that she’d love to go with the men. She assured Frank that she could handle a fishing rod as well as he could, though she seemed slightly squeamish when the topic of bait was brought up.

Rory volunteered to lead the group to Annie’s favorite fishing spot on the far side of the pond. He agreed that it was the best spot for catching fish, though it was quite a trek and very secluded.

“You’ll need to watch out for snakes,” he advised while checking the rods and tackle box. “And check yourselves for ticks afterward.”

Kizzy laughed when Frank asked, “You meant that’s not just a cute country music song?”

Bessie and Doris busied themselves in the kitchen, preparing a picnic lunch for the intrepid fishers. They prepared sandwiches and thermoses filled with tea, then piled in leftover pie from the night before. “That will curb my temptation to pick at it,” Doris laughed, closing up the basket.

As the small group headed out behind the house, there was a collective gasp as they approached the deck.

“Oh, my gosh, what happened out here?” Kizzy asked, pointing towards the deck with her rod.

“Looks like a fire,” Frank suggested. “Must have happened last night,” he added.

Rob stayed silent. Rory told them that there had been a small fire, but he’d put it out before it spread.

“Oh, my goodness--it’s lucky you caught that,” Kizzy exclaimed. “That whole deck could have gone up in flames!”

Rory cringed at the thought and changed the subject. “I would normally take the boat out, but it only holds two people, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to hoof it,” he joked. It’s not too far, but it will help you work up an appetite getting there. Do any of you have a cell phone?”

Rob nodded. “I do.”

“Good. I’m going to leave you all over there and come back here. I’ve got some work to do this morning,” he said simply. “Just call me or Annie and I’ll come get you when you’re finished if you don’t think you can find your way back.”

The guests laughed at this, but after traveling in and out of patches of trees, away from the bank of the pond and back towards it, they could see the sense in his suggestion. “There are parts of this place that are just so overgrown,” Rory explained, “it’s hard to go anywhere in a straight line. I’ll get around to clearing it up--eventually.”

After about twenty-five minutes of walking, they came to a stop. Rory pushed aside some branches of a prickly bush to reveal a stunning view of the pond. From where they were, the house was completely out of sight.

“How big is this pond?” Rob asked, impressed with the secluded spot.

“It runs along most of the property, I think. It’s kind of narrow, for a pond, but it’s a good size for fishing. Actually, this is the back of the property line for the bed-and-breakfast.”

“Who owns the rest of that land?” Kizzy asked pointing to the trees behind them.

“I’m not sure,” Rory admitted. “But whoever it is, I’ve never seen them. It’s pretty secluded out here. Y’all make sure you stay together, don’t go wandering around in the woods. I don’t want to have to send out any search parties,” he joked.

Rory felt only a little uneasy as he left the small group and made his way back to the house. Annie greeted him by the deck.

“Everything good with the fishermen?” she asked, thinking that she really ought to say ‘fisherpeople,’ but it didn’t sound quite right.

“Yep. They should be fine as long as they don’t try and wander off,” he sighed. He reached over and brushed a coarse black hair off of Annie’s shoulder. “That dog sleep alright last night?”

Annie looked down and realized that her shirt was speckled with dog fur from an early morning cuddle with the young dog. She hated to admit that she had already grown quite fond of the little guy and she secretly hoped that the veterinarian wouldn’t find a microchip when they went to his office later that morning.

“Yep,” she replied, “he even slept through our little incident,” she added, gesturing to the deck. “I’m going to take Devon and the pup to see Dr. Fisher so we can make sure the dog doesn’t already belong to someone. I guess I might need to stop and buy dog food, too, depending on what we find out.” She picked at the fur on her shirt as she spoke and she knew that Rory could tell she was avoiding discussing the fire.

He simply nodded as she spoke, then replied, “While you’re gone, I’ll take care of the mess from our little ‘incident.’” He looked around the backyard, surveying the place for any clues that they might have missed the night before. Annie could tell that he was uneasy about the fire--who wouldn’t be? There was something extremely unsettling about waking up to a fire. It was bad enough that it was unexpected, but the fact that it appeared to have been deliberately set while everyone slept, that had Annie’s nerves on edge, too.

“Thank you, Rory.” She leaned in and hugged him. He smelled like soap and sweat, like fresh air and hard work. She sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said finally.

Rory smiled. “I guess you’d be leading the fishing expeditions,” he joked. They separated and went off in different directions, both determined to get their jobs done as soon as possible.

Annie hated leaving Bessie alone to entertain the remaining guests, so she hurried along to Dr. Fisher’s veterinary office. After confirming that the dog had no microchip, she and Devon detoured to visit Emmett at the police station.

They waited with the puppy in the lobby of the station while the receptionist called the Chief in his office. Soon, he appeared behind the glass partition that separated the lobby from the rest of the station.

“Well, now, what have we here?” Emmett’s booming voice startled the pup, making it yelp. “Sorry, little fella,” Emmett apologized to the dog, scratching behind its ear. “Didn’t mean scare the little guy.”

“This is the dog I told you about,” Annie replied, stroking the pup’s head. “Devon and Rory found him wandering along the road by my house. He was dirty and hungry, but the vet says he seems okay, though he needs to be wormed and vaccinated.”

Emmett nodded, unperturbed by the revelation that the pup had parasites. “Most stray pups are wormy,” he said. He looked at Devon. “Did he have a collar or one of those microchip things?”

“No, sir. The vet says he’s probably about four months old. He looks like he’s part German Shepherd, you know, like the kind of dogs used in K9 units. I’m thinking maybe somebody couldn’t find a home for him and just dumped him,” the teen added. “I don’t see how anyone could be so cruel. Look at that face--those big old eyes!” Devon leaned in and let the dog lick his face. “But Mom says I can keep him, so it’s all good, right little guy?”

The dog’s tail wagged in excitement. “Chief, you said you found dog hair in the car? What color was it?” Something had been nagging Annie since the Chief’s call the day before. She felt like she kept finding pieces to a puzzle, but had no idea how they all fit together.

“‘Bout the same color as that,” Emmett replied, pointing at the pup. “Wouldn’t surprise me if your missing guest was planning on bringing a friend with him,” he added.

“Do you mean that this pup was the dead guy’s dog?” Devon asked. “No way!” He looked at the pup for a long moment. “Then it was fate that we found him,” he added. “If Rory and I hadn’t been driving along our road right then, he probably would have ended up getting hit or starving.” He rubbed the dog’s furry ears affectionately. “I know what your name is,” he said confidently. “Your name is Karma because it was definitely fate that brought us together.”

Annie stifled a giggle. “What?” Devon asked, a little hurt that his mother didn’t understand the importance of the name.

“Nothing,” she replied, “It’s a great name. A little dramatic, but unique.” She turned back to Emmett. “Do you need the dog for your investigation?” she asked, wondering to herself how she would tear Devon and the pup apart if he did.

“Nope. I think we’ll just go on the assumption that Karma here got separated from the deceased at some point. I don’t know if that has any bearing on the man’s death, but I don’t see any harm in you guys taking this little fellow home and fattening him up.” He pulled Annie to the side, then added, “I understand y’all had a fire at your place last night?”

Annie was baffled. “How did you know?”

“Your mama called me this morning, first thing. She said you wouldn’t want to worry me, but I’ll just say what I’ve been saying--be careful.”

“It was on the deck, nowhere near the house,” she replied as if it would make the whole situation less bad.

“You want me to send somebody out there? Dust for prints, maybe call in an arson investigator?”

Annie shook her head quickly. “No, I just want to get through this week and send these guests on their way. If the killer is found before then, all the better,” she added, hoping Emmett would reassure her that his officers had a lead on the killer already.

“I’m sure we’ll sniff them out in no time,” he reassured her. “In the meantime, you’ve got yourself a great little guard dog here,” he said, patting Karma on the head. “And you know what they say?”

Annie looked puzzled. “What do they say?”

Emmett grinned. “Well, you know that people who do bad things have to deal with Karma, right?”

The dog let out a little bark, and Annie laughed. “Well, I feel a lot better now,” she replied. “I’ll just let Karma here handle all my problems. I’m sure he’ll sniff out the culprit in no time.”

As they headed back to the car, Annie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe fate really had put the little dog in Rory and Devon’s path. It seemed like a lucky coincidence that they’d found the little guy. “Karma, it’s a shame you can’t speak,” she whispered to the dog as she rubbed its head. “You might be able to tell us who killed your owner.”

Karma looked at her with big brown eyes and barked in apology. Annie sighed, and drove them all home.

14
Tired and Sick

It was already getting hot when Annie arrived back home a little after ten in the morning. They’d made good time on their errands, even after stopping at the MegaMart for dog food. She’d also insisted on getting the pup a collar and soft little bed. “You won’t want him sleeping with when you realize how much he sheds,” she advised her son. While Devon took Karma up to his room, Annie sought out her mother.

Bessie was sitting out on the screened-in porch of the rear veranda. Doris sat with her, a tray filled with a teapot, cups, and accessories sat between them on a table.They were chatting quietly, watching Rory work on the deck, and didn’t hear Annie approach.

“I had a feeling I’d find you two out here,” Annie teased them, causing Bessie to startle slightly. “Didn’t mean to make you jump, Mama. What are you two plotting out here?”

Bessie looked slightly red-faced. “Oh, nothing,” she said quickly. “We were just swapping recipes,” she insisted.

“And drinking tea,” Doris confirmed, lifting a china cup for emphasis. Both women fell immediately silent and took to sipping their teas noisily.

“Well, okay, then,” Annie replied in an exaggerated voice. She got the distinct impression that the two women had just been talking about her before she walked up, though she had no idea why her mother wouldn’t include her in the conversation. Annie’s life was, for the most part, an open book. She saw Doris look intently at Rory, then over at Annie, as though she was comparing the two. Annie’s own cheeks reddened as she realized that they must have been talking about her relationship with Rory.

“Dr. Fisher says the dog doesn’t have a microchip,” Annie said, and it came out a little louder than she’d intended. “And he’s healthy, apart from being slightly wormy,” she added more quietly.

“Most puppies are wormy,” Bessie replied cheerfully. “So we have a new dog!” She sat her cup on the table and gestured towards an empty one, pointing at Annie to ask if she wanted a cup.

Annie shook her head ‘no.’ “Devon’s named him already,” she laughed. “He calls him Karma. I told him it was a little dramatic, but I guess that under the circumstances, he’s got a pretty dramatic origin story. I stopped by Emmett’s place,” she added, trying to be discreet in front of her guest. “He has an interesting theory he wanted to share,” she added.

“You mean he thinks the dog belonged to the dead man?” Bessie picked up her tea once again and peered over the rim of the cup. “He called me after you left. I think he’s fishing for an invite to supper on Sunday. Ever since I told him I’m making chicken and dressing he’s been pestering me non-stop,” she said, a giggle coloring her voice.

Annie was annoyed at her mother for discussing what she considered sensitive police investigation information in front of Doris, but the Ohio woman simply shook her head and cupped her hands around her tea. “I hope they catch whoever killed that man. He might have been a criminal, but nobody deserves to end up like he did.” She shook her head. “And now all his victims will never get a chance to get their money back,” she added. “It’s not like you can get money from a dead man, is it?”

Bessie agreed. “It’s an awful situation all round, isn’t it? But let’s not talk about such depressing things right now.” She patted Doris’s arm gently. “Would you like to see my favorite recipe for pineapple upside down cake? It’s an old one, been in my family for years, but it makes the best dessert!”

Annie left the two women discussing cakes and cookies. She went back inside the house and headed for the kitchen, where she stopped to make herself a cup of coffee. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a tin filled with single-serve coffee pods. Her mother may prefer old-fashioned coffee from a coffee pot, but Annie was unashamedly in love with her Keurig, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the aroma of French vanilla coffee filled the kitchen and her blue ceramic mug.

Annie added her cream and sugar, then took a long drink, still holding the spoon that she’d used to stir the drink. Setting the mug on the counter, she reached for the faucet to rinse the spoon in the sink when something odd caught her eye. A pointed piece of clear plastic sat wedged up against the tap. Annie picked it up and examined it. It appeared to be some sort of a lid, though she had no idea what it fit. She was just about to toss it in the trash when Rory came into the kitchen through the back door. Annie slipped the lid into her back pocket absentmindedly and turned to Rory.

“Annie, I thought you should know that I’m going to go get your guests from the far side of the pond,” he said, catching his breath just a little. “Rob just called me and said he’s sick. Actually, he said Kizzy’s sick, too. I’m not sure about Frank, but Rob sounded kind of shaken up.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll try to be as quick as I can, and I’ve got my phone if you need me.”

Annie could tell Rory was anxious about something. It crossed her mind that he didn’t want to leave her alone after the murder and the fire, but Annie knew she could take care of herself. “Go, don’t worry about me, for heaven’s sake. Did Rob say how sick he was? Is he like, puking sick?”

Rory shrugged. “I don’t know, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to fuss over a little indigestion. They might have picked up a nasty stomach bug, you just never know what they got up to before coming here,” he added.

Annie frowned. It seemed awfully strange that only Rob and Kizzy would be affected by some unexplained illness. Still, she suspected that maybe Rob had exaggerated his illness in order to come back to the house sooner. She doubted that the younger guests had much in common with Frank, and with the temperature already in the upper eighties, they were all probably getting tired of the heat.

“Thanks for letting me know. You go on and get them, I’ll go see if I can round up some antacids and Pepto. I never realized that running a bed-and-breakfast required nursing skills,” she joked.

Annie stepped out the back door and watched Rory walk away until he disappeared in the tree line. She turned and went back into the kitchen, debating whether she should say anything to her mother, who would undoubtedly kick up a fuss over the sick guests. Annie decided to wait until Rory and the others returned before she said anything. She wouldn’t want Doris to worry, and Bessie would almost certainly say something to the woman.

Annie walked across the kitchen and opened the door that led down into the cellar. It was dark and cool down there, and it happened to be the perfect place to stash emergency supplies. She flipped a switch and a single bare bulb burst into light, casting a yellow glow on rows of canned foods, her mother’s gardening supplies, and an assortment of items that they had yet to find permanent homes for.

Across the room was a sturdy metal shelving unit filled with clear plastic tubs. Annie walked over to it and pulled out a tub labeled “medical stuff.” She vaguely remembered putting a few bottles of antacids in the tub just a few weeks before when she’d stocked up during a sale at the MegaMart.

“It’s always smart to keep these on hand,” her mother had advised. “These and Band-Aids, you can never have too many.”

Annie noticed that the door to the breaker box was slightly ajar. Although it was brand new, the door didn’t want to stay shut for some reason. Despite Rory’s best efforts, the door always managed to pop open, which wasn’t strictly a problem, but it drove Annie crazy. She couldn’t stand a slightly open door. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d scolded Devon for leaving cabinets open in the kitchen and her own mother for leaving doors ajar around the house. Either push it completely shut or leave it wide open, but a door that was slightly ajar aggravated her to no end.

She reached up and pushed the door closed, only to have it pop open again. She tried again, wiggling the catch until she thought it might just stay in place, but as she pulled her hand away she was rewarded with a ‘click’ and the door popping back out of place. Frustrated, she pushed the door closed and pounded the catch with her fist. It finally gave in and stayed where she wanted it to, but she didn’t have a chance to gloat.

“You can hit it all you want, but I don’t think that it will help.”

Annie jumped, turning so quickly that she knocked the bottle of antacids off onto the floor.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Marie apologized, “but I saw this door open and just wondered where it led. I always say that an open door is an invitation to the spirit world.”

Annie picked up the antacids and put them in her back pocket. They fit snugly, digging into her tailbone and stretching against the fabric of her capris. “You gave me a fright,” Annie admitted. “I didn’t hear you come down the stairs.”

Marie didn’t respond. She simply smiled and looked around the room, studying her surroundings. “Is this the cellar?” she asked after a moment. Annie nodded. “These old homes have such character, don’t you think?”

Annie thought the cellar was fairly boring. It was cooler down here, which was its only benefit, as far as she was concerned. The room felt clammy to her, and with no windows, it felt claustrophobic, despite the fact that it was nearly as large as her kitchen.

“We don’t encourage guests to come down here,” Annie responded, annoyed that Marie had frightened her and didn’t seem the least bit remorseful about it. Her apology sounded insincere, and that bit about the spirit world rubbed Annie the wrong way. She was sick of Marie’s references to ghosts and spirits, and Annie found herself looking forward to Marie’s checkout date with some small amount of glee.

Marie studied Annie for a moment. “You look like you’ve lost someone recently. No,” she amended, “not recently, but you have been thinking about him recently. Your father,” she added, “is that correct?”

Annie squinted in the low light. “My father died five years ago. I do think of him often, yes, and I’m sure he’s been on my mind in the past few days.” She pointed towards the stairs, motioning for Marie to make a move.

Marie nodded and began to walk very slowly up the bare wooden steps. “I believe he thinks of you, too,” she replied, exiting the cellar ahead of Annie. The two women stood in the middle of Annie’s kitchen for a long moment. The house was silent around them, save for the creaking of the floor as Annie shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Finally, Marie broke the silence. “You don’t believe in what I do.” It was a statement, a challenge.

“I’m sure that you believe in it,” Annie began, “but I’ve always been a little skeptical. I’ve never had any sort of experience that would make me think that there’s any way for those who’ve died to communicate with us.” She kept her tone light and polite, trying not to offend her houseguest. Annie thought very briefly of the redbird she’d seen the morning that she’d found Lou’s body. Did she believe in some sort of afterlife where the dead could visit the living? Her head told her no, but her heart wanted very badly to think that there was a way she might be able to speak to her father again.

With a small shudder, Annie realized that this was probably how Lou Ross had operated. Maybe not by tricking people into believing that he could commune with spirits, but by preying on the things their hearts wanted most, convincing them to ignore the sound judgments that their brains tried to make, and twisting their desires against them, separating his victims from their money by lying to them about how he could give them what they most wanted.

Annie took a deep breath. “Miss Robichaud, can I help you with anything?”

Marie smiled again, the same vapid smile that she always seemed to have pasted on her face. Annie couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was on some sort of drug. She tried to discreetly sniff the air for telltale signs that the woman may have been smoking something. She got a distinctive whiff of cinnamon and patchouli, and a slight hint of something earthy and mellow, nothing too sketchy.

“I actually came to ask if it would be alright if I lit some incense and did a small smudging ritual, you know, to clear the air?”

Annie wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong with the air? Is it your room--I’m sorry, that musty smell is just part of the house. I can get you some air freshener if that would help.”

“Smudging is simply a cleansing ritual to remove bad karma and bless a space,” Marie explained. “It’s very simple, and there’s not nearly as much smoke as you’d think.”

Annie’s mouth made a small ‘o’, then closed again. “You mean sage burning, don’t you?” Marie nodded enthusiastically. “Well, I don’t mind if you do it in your own room, as long as there’s no risk of fire. I’d rather you didn’t burn incense, though. I’d be afraid that the cat might find her way into your room and knock it over. One fire is quite enough for one week,” she added, trying to make light of the fire from the night before.

“Well, yes, I could see how you’d be nervous about that,” Marie agreed. “If you change your mind and would like for me to use my sage in any other parts of the house, or down by the pond--”

Annie put a hand up, cutting her off. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

Marie smiled again and turned to wander off towards the sitting room. Annie rubbed her temples and pulled the bottle of antacids from her pocket. Something fell out of her pocket and hit the floor, skittering to a stop by her foot. She bent to retrieve the small plastic lid that she’d found earlier, having forgotten completely that it had been in her pocket all along. She moved to toss the errant bit of plastic into the garbage but decided to keep it instead. She didn’t want to find the bottle it belonged to later and regret tossing the little lid, so she sat it on the windowsill above the sink.

Annie rinsed out her coffee cup from earlier and wiped down the counter, then struggled to decide what she should do next. She knew that there was likely to be a million things that needed to be done, from cleaning the house to preparing the food that would be cooked later for supper, but all she really wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. Knowing that this was a bad idea (she’d probably sleep like the dead and wake up feeling miserable,) she settled on going to find Devon and making sure that Karma hadn’t destroyed her son’s room the night before.

BOOK: Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2)
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