Hounded to Death (28 page)

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Authors: Laurien Berenson

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: Hounded to Death
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28

“W
hat did you tell her?” I asked.

I stepped away from Aunt Peg and stood on my own. The cool air felt amazingly good. It was as though I could feel my body temperature dropping. Within moments, I began to revive.

Bertie was also looking better. Margo rushed from the room and reappeared a minute later with two big bottles of cold water. Bertie and I each grabbed one and guzzled them down.

Aunt Peg was still watching me, a worried look on her face. Since she hadn't answered, I turned to Margo and repeated my question.

“What did she tell you?”

“That if we had an appointment to meet this afternoon, you wouldn't have stood me up. When you never reappeared after the session let out, I called Peg and told her that you were being willful and irresponsible.”

“When I heard that, I began to wonder where you'd gone off to,” said Aunt Peg. “So I tried to call you, but you didn't answer.”

“Mel and I left our phones in our lockers,” Bertie said. “Neither one of us could get to them.”

“So I discovered,” said Aunt Peg. “Because when I couldn't locate Melanie, I tried you next.”

“And when Peg couldn't reach either one of you,” said Margo, “that's when we began to worry. Peg said it wasn't like the two of you to just disappear.”

“What made you look for us in the health club?” I asked.

“For one thing,” said Margo, “between the two of us we'd searched almost everywhere else.”

“And then I ran into Alana.” Aunt Peg picked up the story. “A most distasteful girl, but helpful on the day. She told me that Bertie planned to spend the afternoon over here and it seemed like a good guess that you might have joined her. Then that large German fellow came along and pointed us toward the locker room, and here we are.”

Bertie strode over to her locker, pulled out her clothes, and began to get dressed. I hung back for a minute.

“Thank you,” I said to both our rescuers. “I don't know how much longer we would have lasted in there.”

“Do you know what happened?” asked Margo. “Who locked you in?”

“Unfortunately Bertie and I didn't see anything. We had no idea something was wrong until we tried to leave and couldn't get the door open.”

I joined Bertie by the lockers and began to get dressed as well. Suddenly I couldn't wait to get out of there.

“I think we should call the police,” said Peg. “They could dust that chair for fingerprints and find out who did this.”

“Fingerprints won't do any good unless the perpetrator already has his on file,” I said as I pulled on my pants.

“Nevertheless.” Aunt Peg refused to be deterred. “By my estimation, the authorities only have one more day to solve Charles's murder. When the symposium ends tomorrow, everyone will scatter across the country. If the police don't get things figured out soon, it's going to be too late.”

“All the more reason to light a fire under them,” Margo said firmly. “I'll go make some calls.”

Energized by the thought of her next mission, the director spun on her heel and left the room.

“If nobody needs me for anything,” said Bertie, “I'm going back to the inn to shower and change. I'll meet up with you later, okay?”

Peg and I both nodded and Bertie left too.

“You're coming with me,” my aunt informed me. “There must be an OB/GYN on duty somewhere in Mountain View. Perhaps the emergency room can arrange an examination to let us know that everything is all right.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Aunt Peg was faster. “I don't want to hear a single argument.”

I hadn't been about to argue, but I closed my mouth anyway.

Sometimes it's just easier to let Aunt Peg think she's running the show.

 

True to the ways of doctors and emergency rooms, several hours passed before Aunt Peg and I made it back to the inn. But by then I'd had an ultrasound and been assured that the baby was doing fine; so the trip, and the time it took, was well worth it.

While we were waiting, Aunt Peg and I discussed and dissected every aspect of our time at the symposium. We began with the opening reception and worked our way through that afternoon's events. By the time I was finished, Aunt Peg knew as much as I did about each of the various suspects.

Not only that, but when I ran my circle theory past her, Aunt Peg's eyes lit up. Unlike Bertie, my aunt is very good at math.

When I was whisked away for tests, Aunt Peg continued to ponder the subject. By the time we were in the car and heading back to the inn, she had reached a conclusion.

“Derek's up to something,” she said. “And I'm betting that makes him the key to this whole situation. We ought to go talk to him.”

“I've done that,” I replied. “And Derek's not talking. If he's mixed up in Charles's murder, there's no way he's going to give anything away if he doesn't have to. We need another angle.”

Aunt Peg thought for a minute as she drove.

“Florence,” she said finally.

“What about her?”

“She's our angle.”

I shook my head. “According to Derek, he and Florence barely even know one another.”

“Pish,” said Aunt Peg. “For one thing, I'm not at all sure we need to believe everything Derek says. And for another, if Florence isn't part of this mess, why was she attacked?”

“Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Or perhaps she knows something. Something the killer would rather have stay hidden.”

“If that's the case, her concussion seems to have done the trick. Richard says her memory of last night is hazy at best.”

“That may be.” Aunt Peg slowed as we approached the driveway and turned on her signal. “Or it could be that's just a convenient ruse that allowed her to place the blame on me. At any rate, it never hurts to ask. The worst she can do is tell us to go away.”

I suspected that Florence was capable of far worse than that, but I've found it's best not to get in Aunt Peg's way when she's settled on a course of action.

“Florence it is,” I said. “Let's go find her and see what she has to say.”

That objective had to wait, however. When we got back to the inn, our first duty was to retrieve Walter and take him outside for a much-needed walk. Solving a murder was important to Aunt Peg, but responsible dog ownership still took precedence.

She attached Walter's new leash to his equally new collar and led him down the back stairs and out the side door. Immediately the German Shepherd lifted his nose to sniff the air, then took off at a steady walk around the side of the building.

The dog had been cooped up in the hotel room for much of the day. Now that he was finally free, Aunt Peg allowed him to choose his own course. She held the end of the leash and followed along behind.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I haven't a clue. Walter thinks he smells something interesting.”

“He's taking us back to the kitchens. What he smells is probably the remains of tonight's dinner.”

We'd been on this particular walkway on several of the previous evenings. On each of those occasions our night had ended badly. Aunt Peg might have forgotten our resolution not to return to this area after dark, but I most certainly had not. Hopefully Walter and his nose weren't leading us into more trouble.

“Announce yourselves or suffer the consequences!” a voice cried out.

Aunt Peg stopped abruptly. When she tugged on the leash, Walter halted too.

“Florence? Is that you?”

“Who wants to know?”

The older woman was standing around the corner of the tall hedge. She couldn't see us any more than we could see her.

“It's Peg Turnbull. And Melanie is with me.”

“So you say. If this is a trick, I should warn you I'm armed with a weapon and I know how to use it.”

Aunt Peg and I exchanged a look.

“It's not a trick,” I called into the darkness. “We're just out here walking our dog.”

“Ha! You can't fool me. You don't have a dog.”

Oops. I'd forgotten Walter was a secret.

Florence peered cautiously around the corner of the hedge. Below, much closer to the ground, Button's small head appeared at the same time as his owner's. His must have been the scent that Walter had picked up.

“So it is you.” Florence's eyes dropped to the Shepherd. “Where did
he
come from?”

“We found him a couple of days ago,” said Aunt Peg. “He's a stray who's been living in the woods near the inn.”

“Pretty fancy collar and leash for a stray.” Florence sniffed. “Just because you've got a big dog don't think you're going to get the better of me again.”

Her arm snaked out from behind the hedge. Light glinted off a long metal bar she brandished above her head. “I've got a tire iron and I'm not afraid to use it!”

“Oh, for pity's sake,” said Aunt Peg. “Put that thing down.”

Florence glared at us for a moment, then complied. Her arm was probably getting tired anyway.

“What are you doing out here in the dark?” I asked as Button scampered out from behind the hedge.

Walter leaned down and the two dogs touched noses.

“Same as you, can't you tell? I'm walking my dog. Just because people behave like idiots doesn't mean the whole world can come to a stop. Trouble or no, Button still has to do his business.”

“You shouldn't be out here alone,” said Peg. “It isn't safe.”

“Don't you worry about me.” Florence hefted the tire iron again. “I've got my own protection.”

She didn't look nearly as tough as she thought she did. Even after a night in the hospital, Florence still appeared wan and frail.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“I got a concussion twenty-four hours ago. How do you think I feel?”

“I imagine your head hurts,” said Aunt Peg.

“Damn straight.”

“Maybe you'd like to help us figure out who hit you.”

“Why should I help you do anything?”

“Because you're involved in this mess whether you want to be or not. If we pool our knowledge, maybe we can come up with some answers.”

When Florence hesitated, I added, “You should know there's a good possibility that several of Richard's friends are to blame.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Derek Ryan and Tubby Mathis.”

“Tubby's no friend of Richard's,” Florence said firmly. “Nor of mine. And if that man's in trouble, he brought it on himself. I heard he only came to this symposium to do damage control. Tubby's had his hands in other people's pockets for years. He's the kind of judge who gives all of us a bad name. Now he's about to get his comeuppance. It's about time if you ask me.”

“I heard someone was about to report Tubby to the A.K.C.,” I said. “Was it Derek?”

“Good question. I wondered about that myself. Not that I lost any sleep worrying about it, mind you. But now things have changed, haven't they? Maybe the answer makes a difference.”

Florence paused and looked at both of us in the half-light. “Heaven knows you're not the partners I'd have chosen, but you're here, so I guess you'll have to do. Someone needs to put a stop to this idiocy. I don't see anyone else volunteering, so that just leaves us. Fair enough. I've always enjoyed a good tussle myself.”

Like that was a surprise.

“Last night,” said Florence. “You were the ones who found me.”

“That's right.”

“I didn't remember much at first. But little by little, things began to come back. That's why I brought Button out here tonight. I thought maybe if I recreated the scene, something might jog my memory.”

“Good for you,” I said and my admiration was genuine. Florence was braver than I'd have given her credit for.

“Did it work?” asked Aunt Peg.

“Maybe. I wouldn't say that things are exactly clear, but I'll tell you what I do know. I heard someone talking when I was out here last night. You know, people holding a conversation. They must have been standing on the other side of the hedge and they didn't realize I was here.”

“Who was it?” I asked.

At the same time, Peg said, “What were they saying?”

“Both of you just slow down. Back off and let me tell my story.”

Aunt Peg was as impatient as I was, but we waited quietly until Florence had gathered her thoughts.

“One of them was Derek. It sounded like he was arguing with someone. That's why I could hear what he was saying, because he was so angry.

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