Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) (10 page)

After talking the waitress out of calling security, I rushed to my car, got my purse and came back to pay the tab. I could see that she forgave me for all the fuss after I gave her a big tip.

I then limped over to the flight status board stationed before the security area. There indeed was a flight from Houston with a stopover period before heading to New York.

Since I was not allowed to the gates, I had to content myself with that. I really wanted to see if Susie got on that plane.

Standing in the airport looking at the flight board, I knew three things.

1. Susie would be boarding a new plane.
   
2. I knew that there were no lockers in the waiting areas after you got through security.
   
3. I also knew that business people always took carryons onto plane themselves. It was too risky to check bags.
   

So where was Susie’s luggage?

“So you knew?”

“I don’t believe it. I never believed it,” defended Ginny.

“How did you find out?”

“Selena told me, but I don’t believe it.”

“Yeah, I got that. How did she know?” I asked.

“She said that Farley told her that Dwight had probably run off with another woman. But Jo, he would never abandon his little girl. Never. I know my son.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just knew that I was mad. Ginny had used me and had not been upfront.

Ginny inhaled deeply from a cigarette and nervously tapped the kitchen table.

I waved away the smoke. “Ginny, I’m out of my depth here. I don’t who’s lying, and you have not been completely honest with me. You should have told me about the rumors.”

A pink flush ran up Ginny’s neck to her cheeks. “I asked for a copy of the check for this two hundred thousand dollars that Dwight supposedly embezzled.”

“Farley also inferred that Dwight had stolen the money. There was never any mention that Farley was buying Dwight out. But this Ms. Brinkman said Dwight wanted to be bought out. So you see that I am just going round and round in circles. I have no authority to make Farley open the company’s books. You really need to talk to the police. I think there is enough to re-open the investigation.”

“I’ve tried and tried. You were my last hope to shake something lose.”

“I’m sorry but there’s nothing more I can do.”

Ginny took a puff. “I see. Well, if there’s nothing more . . .”

Getting the hint, I stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

I felt bad, really bad, leaving Ginny alone smoking at a dirty kitchen table and drinking stale coffee.

But it was over.

Until Dwight surfaced one way or the other, there was nothing anyone could do.

“I don’t see why you feel so guilty. You went as far as you could until the trail went cold,” Asa said.

“Ginny was one of the few people who stuck by me when your father left.”

“Deserted us, you mean.”

“Left. Let’s not be so dramatic.”

“Whatever you say, Mother.”

I gave Asa one of those maternal looks. “I wanted to repay her kindness to both of us. She got guff from people because she stood by me . . . and you.”

“Has she paid for the lab testing and your gas money?”

“Not yet, but she will when she can.”

Asa gave me a doubtful look.

I shook my head in weariness. I was exhausted both mentally and physically. And I still had Christmas breakfast to do in a couple of days. I was beginning to wonder if I was up to it.

Recognizing the signs that I was plumb worn out, Asa took the reins. “Okay, Mommy Dearest, it’s time you went to bed.”

“I’ve got things to prepare for the breakfast.”

“No, you don’t. I’m going to call Franklin and we are going to handle breakfast. He’s got nothing else to do. We are going to have a simple breakfast of eggs, country ham, pastries, fruit and that’s all.”

“Matt wanted waffles too.”

“I’ll have Franklin pickup some frozen waffles at the store.”

“That’s simply won’t do for Matt. He’ll want homemade.”

“It will have to. He’ll understand, Mom.”

“What about the house?”

“What about it? Eunice and Amelia have this house so clean I literally could eat off the floor.”

“There’s laundry to do, flower arrangements and the table needs to be set.”

“I’ll take care of everything. This is one of my presents to you. You need to rest. I mean really rest. And to make sure that you do, I will throw in a bonus.

“One of my guys is staying in town for the holidays. I will have him follow this Farley Webb and see what this guy is up to.”

“That is what I wanted but was afraid to ask.”

“There’s a catch, though. He’s alone for the holidays. Can we invite him to Matt’s Christmas Eve dinner and our breakfast?”

“I insist upon it. This is wonderful. I can really sleep, knowing that someone is still digging.”

I gave Asa a kiss and called to Baby.

But Baby was preoccupied looking out the glass patio doors for his kitty cats.

They were late this evening. If they didn’t come in soon, Asa would have to walk to the barn and check on them.

It was snowing now.

I could tell she wanted them inside before the snow got too deep or too slick. It was not unusual for us to have ice storms without warning. It made getting around outside very tiresome.

“Go on, Mom. I’ll see about the cats. The rest of the animals have been fed and watered.”

I gave her a brief smile as I trotted off to bed, leaving Asa and Baby peering through the glass door at the distant tobacco barn for the cats.

My last thought was of Brannon, my late husband as a young man, wishing he were spending Christmas with us. Smiling, I fell asleep.

I awoke with a start. You know that kind of waking as if you had been drowning – that slow struggle through thick water, then gasping as you finally shoot beyond the confines of the water into the open air.

Glancing at the illuminated clock next to the bed, I could see it was just after three.

Switching on the light proved that Baby was not in his bed. Perhaps he was sleeping with Asa, but there were no signs of the cats. Even if the majority were with Asa, one or two would have been curled up with me.

Concerned, I climbed out of bed and went into the hallway.

There were quite a few lights in the house left on, not the usual button-down that one does when going to bed.

The Butterfly didn’t feel right.

A tingling traveled up my spine.

Asa’s bedroom door was open.

I stood at the doorway feeling for the light switch.

She wasn’t in bed.

Nor was there any sign of Baby. By now, Baby would have heard me and have been by my side, seeing what I was up to and wondering if it involved food.

“Baby! Asa!” Hope against hope, I would have been thrilled to find them both on the couch in the living room, having drifted off to sleep. But no one returned my call.

“Dear Lord,” I muttered. Hurrying throughout the house, I checked every room but no sign of Asa, the dog or the cats.

My heart was racing now.

Going to the small room by the front door, I started turning on all the screens for the cameras that monitored the Butterfly and the farm. With a press of a few buttons, I could turn lights on all over the farm and use a joystick to move the cameras stationed at strategic points.

Outside it was snowing, making visibility difficult. Some of the camera’s screens were dusted white.

I jostled the joystick so I could see the ground near the front door. There were human and dog footprints leaving the house but not returning. I followed those tracks all the way to the tobacco barn, which had been turned into a stable.

Asa had gone to gather the cats but never returned.

I shot a look behind me as I heard whimpering. I realized it was me making those sounds.

Frantically, I checked the bee yard. The snow did not looked disturbed and the hives were blanketed in snow.

I checked the front entrance to the farm. There were tire tracks but they could be from Matt’s car. Checking all the other camera sites, I didn’t find any more footprints nor signs of my daughter.

Pushing the buttons for every light on the farm, I lit the joint up like the Fourth of July.

My hands were shaking so I could barely push Matt’s numbers on the phone.

“Hello? This better be good,” responded a groggy voice.

“Matt. Matt. Get up. Something’s wrong. Asa and Baby are not in the house. There’re footprints going into the old tobacco barn. Help me.”

“What?”

“Matt, wake up. I think there’s trouble. Meet me at the stable.”

Matt was suddenly alert. “You stay there. I’ll go check.”

“No, don’t go alone. I’m calling Charles. Wait for me to pick you up.” I put down the phone.

Throwing on an overcoat along with some boots, thick gloves and an old hat, I knew I looked a sight but didn’t care.

Suddenly remembering I hadn’t called Charles, I anxiously dialed the number at his house on Lady Elsmere’s farm.

He picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

I quickly told him that Asa and Baby were not in the house.

“I’ll meet you at the stable.” Then a click and the dial tone.

Grabbing the car keys and the sycamore cane that Moshe Goren had carved for me, I flung open the door and hurried to the Prius.

It didn’t take me very long to get to Matt’s little house.

He was waiting outside. “Let me drive,” he suggested.

I changed seats.

The snow was coming down more heavily.

Matt switched on the windshield wipers.

It took us only a few moments to get to the converted tobacco barn, but it seemed like hours. As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out.

Charles, with several of his grandsons, were already standing in front of the barn studying the footprints at the entrance. The front double doors were slightly pulled apart.

“Asa,” I called. “Asa!”

Barking.

“That’s Baby,” I cried to the others. “Baby. Baby!” I rushed into the darkness.

Charles followed me with a flashlight while Matt felt for the light switch.

Immediately the barn was flooded with light. I started opening all the stalls.

The retired racehorses were calmly chewing on hay, as were several little goats. In another stall, the peacocks, angry at being disturbed, hissed when I opened their little cubicle. A lama reached over through the slats and nipped my shoulder.

“Josiah, over here,” called Charles.

Matt and I rushed over to Charles. In an empty stall lay Asa with Baby guarding. Upon seeing us he growled, baring his teeth.

While mastiffs rarely bite, they will if they feel threatened. An English Mastiff’s bite is 550-660 lbs per square inch, while a lion’s bite is 680 lbs PSI. See what I’m talking about.

They were bred in Britain two thousand years ago to hunt and protect. Julius Caesar is said to have brought this ancient breed from Britain to Rome to fight in the arena games.

Behind me I heard Charles on his walkie-talkie telling one of his daughters to bring the dart gun and the Hummer with the emergency kit.

“The gun won’t be necessary,” I said.

“That dog’s an English Mastiff. He has had centuries of breeding to make him instinctively guard his master. You know that they had to be put down to get to their wounded or dead masters during the Crusades. He’s no different. It’s in their blood to defend until death.” Charles swirled me around to face him. “I’m just gonna tranquilize him.”

“But Asa’s not Baby’s master. I am.” I pulled away from Charles and stepped into the cubicle.

Baby bared his teeth and snapped at the air, giving me a warning.

“Baby. Baby. It’s me. It’s Mommy,” I cooed.

One of the grandsons moved.

Baby lunged forward and would have bitten my hand if I hadn’t moved quickly enough.

“You all move back. You’re making him nervous. Step back where Baby can’t see you,” I demanded.

Baby stood quivering in front of Asa’s prone body.

I decide another tact. “BABY! Lie down. Lie down. I need to see to Asa.” I gave the hand signal to Baby to lie down, making sure his good eye saw it. “It’s me. Josiah. Baby, do as I tell you. LIE DOWN!” I held out my hand so Baby could smell me.

Baby stretched his neck to sniff. He gave a little yelp of recognition, moving toward me. As always, he leaned his two hundred-plus pounds against my bad leg.

I scratched behind his ears. “Good Baby. Good Baby. I tied a rope through his collar, while continuing to praise him. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Charles’ daughter, Amelia, had joined us and handed me a bloody piece of meat through one of the stall slats. “It’s been doctored with a tranquilizer. It will make him relax.”

I looked at the meat without enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry, Josiah. It won’t hurt him. Just makes him sleepy. I’ve already called the vet. I’ll stay with Baby until he comes.”

Reluctantly I took the meat and held it out to Baby. “Here, Baby. Eat this.”

Baby sniffed it, while looking at me for guidance. “It’s okay, Baby. You can eat it. You’ve done your job. Treat. Treat.”

At the suggestion of a treat, Baby snatched the meat from my hand and consumed it in several gulps.

I was lucky that I still had my fingers intact.

“Everyone go to the other side of the barn,” I requested.

Quietly they retreated as I slowly pulled on the rope, leading Baby into an empty stall. As I closed the door to the stall, Baby looked at me in confusion. “You did good, Baby. Good dog. Good dog.”

Baby’s eyelids were starting to droop. The medication was already working.

Behind me, I heard Charles and Matt rush to Asa.

“She’s alive,” called out Matt. After checking for broken bones, Matt swooped up Asa and carried her to the Hummer, which was waiting to take her to the hospital.

Charles’ other daughter, Bess, was already inside the car putting blankets on Asa while Charles took the wheel.

I hopped inside.

Within minutes, we were flying down the road to the nearest emergency room while Matt and the grandsons waited for the police.

“That barn must be cursed,” I muttered to no one in particular. “This is the second blood-letting in it.”

“What’s that?” asked Bess.

“Just thinking out loud,” I replied while holding Asa’s hand. “Asa, wake up. Talk to me.” I gave her a little shake. “Asa!”

Asa slowly opened her eyes. “I could be dead but I would still hear that irritating “Mother voice” coming from beyond the vale.”

Grinning, I replied, “You can’t be that dead if you are using phrases like ‘beyond the vale.’”

Asa gave a little smile, more like a smirk. “I heard everything that went on with Baby. It took you long enough to find me.” She paused. “Everything is spinning. I’m going to sleep now.”

“No you’re not,” commanded Bess. “You’re going to stay awake.” She gave Asa a vicious pinch.

“Ouch! That hurt,” mumbled Asa.

“Good. Now keep talking.”

“What happened?” I questioned.

“Went to check on the cats. Someone jumped me from behind.” She snorted. “Speaking of behinds, I think Baby got a piece of
their
behind.”

“No pun intended.”

Asa softly chuckled.

Suddenly the Hummer stopped and the car doors were flung open. A doctor and several nurses put Asa on a gurney and rushed her into the emergency room.

Bess had an orderly bring a wheelchair. I really was in no shape to walk at this point. Between the pain and adrenaline, I was trembling so that I could barely negotiate my way out of the Hummer, even with help.

She wheeled me into the waiting room where I started my vigil of waiting for the doctor.

It seemed like forever.