Killing Kate: A Novel (Riley Spartz Book 4) (28 page)

Then from down the hall, in the newsroom, I heard my name being called. A shrill and wild soprano. “Riley, where are you?”

Garnett looked confused. “Is that your boss?” After all, I’d already told him she was out of town.

“No. Worse,” I replied. “My mother.”

W
hen she saw me coming around the corner, my mom rushed toward me with her arms open and her eyes tearing. “Oh, Riley, you are safe. We had to be certain.”

“Mom, you two didn’t have to drive a hundred miles just for a hug.”

“Oh yes, we did.”

I almost told her she could have just watched the news, but realized that wouldn’t have been motherly on her end or daughterly on mine. While we embraced, I saw my dad out of the corner of my eye, waiting for his turn.

And he was holding a black-and-white puppy.

Just as I saw fur, my mother saw glint. We both yelled our discoveries concurrently.

“A dog!”

“A ring!”

I hadn’t meant to share my engagement news with my parents yet. But you can’t carry classified information on your ring finger. Especially during a parental ambush.

Mom and Dad starting gushing about how happy they were for us and glancing around for the lucky chap. They spotted Garnett by the news desk, abandoning me so they could thrust the pup into his arms.

“Congratulations, son! We brought you an engagement present,” my dad said.

“His name is Max,” Mom said. “He can grow up to be a guard dog.”

Garnett seemed delighted by their joy, and anxious to join the Spartz family as son-in-law.

They were full of questions like when is the big day? And will Father Mountain perform the ceremony? I explained that we’d only been engaged an hour and had lots of details to work out. Weddings and dog ownership had to be among the last things I wanted to talk about just then. Because I’d been thinking about Garnett’s theory that the killer might have come after me. If true, he was likely to have been enraged that I wasn’t home. But that wasn’t the kind of conversation my parents needed to hear.

“About the dog,” I said. “That dog can’t be a newshound. It has to be a farm dog. Nick and I have no place to keep the animal.”

I explained that he lived on the East Coast and I was homeless at the moment. So we couldn’t have pets.

My parents lavished Garnett and the pooch with a group hug while I looked on and around in puzzlement.

“How did they get in here?” I asked. Access to the building, especially on weekends, was difficult for nonemployees.

“I let them in.” Channel 3’s rookie said sheepishly. “They showed up at your house looking for you. The police told them you were gone. No kidding. That’s the word they used.
Gone.
Your mom panicked and said, ‘No, she’s still alive, we talked to her on the phone. Let us in.’ ”

I could see the whole scene unfolding poorly.

“Then your folks saw the Channel 3 logo on my jacket. So they sort of latched on to me, and I had to invite them to follow me downtown to find you.” He smiled apologetically. “Here they are.”

I couldn’t really blame him. I knew my parents could be formidable when it came to family. “It’s okay. Best they not be running around loose here in the Cities.”

“Now how about a quick sound bite?” He reverted back to the news mode. And because I knew what he needed we wrapped it fast.

I rounded up my parents and fiancé—it was getting easier to say, maybe because it wasn’t so secret anymore. The gang was hanging out by the assignment desk getting a head start on the day’s news. I remained the lead story. But that’s how they found out Laura Warner was the murder victim.

“Wasn’t she your college roommate for a while?” my mom asked. “Such a nice family. I didn’t know you two were still in touch.”

I glossed over Laura’s other troubles with them. Her being dead and all made them seem unimportant.

That’s when my dad told me he and Mom were too tired to drive back to the farm. “We were up all night grieving for you, Riley.”

“Yes,” Mom chirped in. “I think we better just all stay in the Cities together tonight. Safety in numbers.”

“Together where? My house is a crime scene.” If the homicide squad was clamping down on media access to Kate’s house, they sure weren’t going to let me inside mine anytime soon. Especially not for sleepovers.

“Well, where are you staying?” Dad asked.

So I explained I was house sitting for my boss who was out of town until the next day.

“Is there room for us?” he wanted to know.

“No. If I’m squeezing anyone in with me, it’s going to be my fiancé.” There, I said the word.

Nick looked pleased at the prospect of a night together—just the two of us—before he had to head back to Washington. Wait until he saw Noreen’s house.

“Is there a hotel nearby?” My mom is fond of staying at hotels, especially ones that include a free breakfast.

I told them to follow us and we’d look for a place, but that we had to stop at my news director’s house first.

“I have to check on the animals.” Being farmers, that made sense to them.

My parents dislike urban driving, especially freeways, so even though no weekend rush hour existed, we decided Dad would ride shotgun with Garnett and I would drive the other car with Mom. I led the route to Noreen’s, heading west into the sun.

Max was riding with the men.

My mom wanted girl talk, like whether I was going to have a church wedding and if Dad would be allowed to give me away. I found myself wishing for heavy traffic, so I could hush her.

She noticed a hotel off an exit, and writing down the particulars distracted her enough from wedding questions that I was able to get her to talk about how the town lutefisk supper went. In Minnesota, codfish preserved in lye is considered a delicacy. Mention the Scandinavian tradition elsewhere and it’s a joke.

“Good turnout,” she said. “People will drive far for tasty lutefisk.”

She was surprised when we left the metro area for rural roads, especially when we pulled into Noreen’s long driveway. A fence surrounded the yard. A pet door allowed the dogs in-and-out privileges from the house.

“Your boss lives here?” Mom said. “Why can’t you live here? It’s like the farm without the chores.”

Noreen had fixed the place up since she’d gotten married and divorced, but there were still plenty of chores. That’s why I was there.

“Wait until we get inside,” I warned.

The men parked beside us and were taking Max to the bushes to do doggie business while I unlocked the front door.
The animals could hear us and those not sleeping started their greetings.

When my parents counted up all the pets inside, feather, fin, and fur, I think they were glad not to be staying overnight. And Garnett didn’t look thrilled to be bedding down with me in a domestic zoo.

“One problem,” Dad said. “The hotel isn’t going to let Max stay with us. Would you mind one extra till tomorrow?”

The pup was starting to squirm to get down from his arms, but I held off making any commitment until I saw how the big dogs and the newbie got along.

“Hey, look, they like each other,” he said.

And they sort of did. Blackie touched noses with Max and that puppy peck paved the way for Husky to accept him too. Speckles seemed a little standoffish, but she’d spent most of her life coddled by Noreen as an only dog and was still adjusting to the swarm.

The cats weren’t happy, but they seldom were.

My parents promised to swing by and pick Max up in the morning. “Maybe we’ll even bring you doughnuts,” Mom said. I wasn’t sure if she was saying that because Garnett was a cop or because she could snag them free at the breakfast buffet.

And then, not counting creatures with tails and wings, my fiancé and I were alone in my boss’s bed.

G
arnett’s fervent whispers stopped. “Did you hear something, Riley?”

“Just you blowing in my ear.”

“I thought I heard something.”

“Well, pay more attention to me and less to ballyhoo.”

I reminded him there were a couple dozen animals in the house, and all but the fish made night noises. I could definitely hear dog sounds in the other rooms. Garnett had insisted Blackie, Husky, Speckles, and Max all sleep outside the bedroom to give us more privacy and less panting.

“I’m worried someone else is in the house.” And because another woman had been murdered the night before, he reached along the floor, feeling for his gun.

Our clothes had been enthusiastically discarded moments earlier so he had to leave my smooth side and warm bed to find his weapon. That’s when the bedroom door opened.

“Freeze!” he yelled. Just as the light went on.

Naked, in a well-practiced cop crouch, he pointed his Glock at Noreen. I pulled the blankets over my head because I couldn’t bear to watch.

I still heard her scream.

“It’s okay, Noreen.” I held my ring finger out from under the covers. “We’re engaged.”

“In what?” she asked.

Garnett and I checked into the hotel down the road. Neither of us was eager to resume where we’d left off, maybe because we both knew my parents were staying under the same roof and now kept thinking What If They Walk In On Us?

We’d apologized to Noreen; she’d apologized to us. I hoped the incident could be one of those things neither of us ever mentioned again. Especially not during job reviews.

“You weren’t supposed to come back until tomorrow.” I felt that certainly put me in the right.

She explained that with all the day’s upheaval, she wasn’t sure I could keep my word to pet sit. “So I came back early. If you were gone, I’d be glad I did. If you were here, it wouldn’t matter.”

She glanced at Garnett who, by now, was holding my sweater as a shield. “I wasn’t expecting you to have company.”

“That’s complicated,” I replied.

The two of us dressed as quickly as we could and Garnett left without looking Noreen in the eye. I tried keeping things casual by telling her I’d see her at the station . . . and she winked.

My cell phone rang the next morning on the hotel nightstand. I expected my parents calling to check our whereabouts. Instead it was my boss wondering why she had one more dog than when she left, especially since none of hers were pregnant.

“That’s even more complicated,” I said. “Can I get back to you?”

Then I dialed the front desk and asked to be connected to my parents’ room, and was told no guests were registered by that name.

“Did they already check out?”

“No one by that name stayed here last night,” the clerk said.

And then I realized I’d been scammed by my own mom and dad. And once again I was left holding the dog.

“You sure your boss is going to be okay with Max?”

Garnett and I were driving by my house to gawk at crime scene tape and pick up my car.

“I told her it was a misunderstanding. She said he can stay for the week until I find a new place, but that’s all. She doesn’t want the other dogs growing too fond of him.”

We unloaded my junk, and while we kissed good-bye, I caught him looking at his watch because he had to return his rental car before catching his flight.

“Why don’t you fly out with me for a couple days, Riley? I think you could use a break.”

“I’d love to, Nick. But no way can I get time off on this short notice. And I haven’t the nerve to ask Noreen after . . . you know.”

He knew. And he didn’t have the nerve either.

“Besides, you have a busy workweek, Nick. You were just telling me about that hearing before the Senate committee. How much time would we really have together?”

He got my point. I waved to him as he drove off, leaving me wondering where I’d be sleeping that night. I also wondered if my fiancé could see my ring flashing in his rearview mirror.

In the neighborhood of Ed’s liquor store, I wasn’t sure if I needed a drink or a friend, but I left with a gun and bullets.

“I insist, dearie.” Ed handed me the revolver he kept hidden and handy. “You’re traveling around a mean crowd.”

“But what about you, Ed? You’re the one up against a strange face every fifteen minutes.”

He snorted with amusement. “The only time I’ve fired this gun
in the last twenty years, you watched. My gut tells me you could need this old six-shooter before I do.”

He emptied the bullets on the counter, encouraging me to practice pointing the firearm at the smoke alarm and pulling the trigger. Then he showed me how to load and unload the ammunition until I could do it myself.

Ed had only fourteen cartridges, and urged me to find a quiet spot out in the country and fire a few.

“Get the feel for this Saturday-night special,” he said. “But make sure you save six bullets. So you’ve got one in each chamber. More options then.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever need it, Ed. But I’ll hold on to it for a while. Thanks.” I tucked the gun into my purse. Just having it close might make me feel safer.

“Oh, sweetie,” Ed called after me. “No registration, so best you not show off.”

My heart wasn’t really into being armed and dangerous. Maybe if I went legal and got a conceal and carry permit. But that legit stuff took time. Maybe if I named my gun. But Saint Saturday-Night Special didn’t have quite the flair of Saint Glock. Neither did Saint Six-shooter.

L
ocked out of my house, I bought new socks and underwear, as well as jeans, two crew shirts, and a corduroy blazer to tide me over until I grasped what was ahead. I dropped most of the stuff off at the station because I didn’t want to buy a suitcase.

Delmonico had left a message at my desk asking where I was staying in case the police needed to reach me. The chief probably wanted him poised to make an easy arrest.

“I haven’t decided yet.” None of his business, I figured. Telling him I was likely to crash on the couch in the Channel 3 green room made me sound pitiful. He settled for my cell phone number.

“Anything new on Laura’s murder?” I didn’t expect much of an answer and didn’t get one, other than that the autopsy had confirmed blunt force trauma as the cause of death.