Murder on the Hoof: A Mystery (Colleen McCabe Series) (4 page)

“You want me to tell her you were asking for her?” Wendy asked, ready to text a message.

“No!” Colleen said. Wendy and Jason looked at her, surprised. “It’s really nothing. It can wait. I’d hate to disturb her when she’s clearly got more important things on her mind.”

“Okay, then,” Wendy said, untroubled.

“See you later,” Colleen said, and pulled away.

She zoomed down Route 12 with the window open, not really aware of where she was heading. The ocean air whipped her hair around her neck and across her face. Sparky squeezed closer, wanting to catch some of the wind for himself. She peeked at the speedometer. If she didn’t slow down, she or someone else might get hurt. She needed to find a quiet place where she could think and clear her mind. She steered off of Ocean Trail and onto the grounds of the Currituck Heritage Park.

She slowed the vehicle to a crawl, wound her way along the quaint road, passed the Whalehead Club Historic House Museum, and parked in a small private lot near the water. She always found the grounds peaceful—especially now in the late afternoon, when most vacationers had abandoned the beach and other visitor spots and were home showering and planning for the evening’s activities. She and Sparky left the SUV and strolled the short distance to the arched bridge that overlooked Currituck Sound.

Colleen stopped at the top of the bridge, leaned against the railing, and gazed across the sound. Sparky sat next to her and tilted his head heavenward to catch a whiff of the brackish air. She listened to the water lapping at the coastline, closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and tried to calm her mind. Envy was not part of her makeup, and yet, now that she was alone with nobody but herself to account to, she had to admit that that was exactly what she was feeling. She was jealous of Hayley Thorpe … and not because of her beauty and charisma—although that certainly wasn’t helping matters—but because of the woman’s obvious past relationship with Bill. She had always known that he must have had girlfriends before meeting her, but she and Bill had never discussed their old romances. Until now, it was only in theory that she had understood this. With Hayley in town, theory had become reality.

She wondered why Bill hadn’t told her about his association with the actress. After all, Hayley wasn’t just any girl next door from back home. She was world-famous, with legions of adoring fans. Colleen had never watched soaps, but she remembered seeing friends in college huddled around the television in the student lounge each afternoon as she left for track practice. Many had grown up watching
As the World Turns, Passages in Time,
and
All My Children,
among others, with their mothers or grandmothers and would often discuss the characters as if they were real people. To her, they had been beautiful faces on the cover of tabloids and supermarket magazines. For weeks, everyone in Corolla had been talking about Hayley’s arrival. Why hadn’t Bill mentioned he knew her? He had had plenty of opportunity. Why hide it? Could he have feelings for Hayley? She pushed the question from her mind. Don’t go there, she told herself. Nothing good can come of thinking like that.

“Colleen? Is that you?” came a familiar voice.

“Hi, Nellie,” she said, and forced a smile as the woman climbed the bridge and joined her.

Sparky trotted to greet Nellie, tail wagging, and leaned against the older woman in a gesture of affection.

“So, did your crew find working with us useful today?” Nellie asked, bracing herself against the dog’s weight.

“I think so. I haven’t actually met with them yet.”

“Oh?”

“You’re wondering why I’m here,” Colleen said, reading Nellie’s mind. “I needed to clear my head. A lot has happened since this morning.”

“Yes, poor Doris. I can’t help wondering if she didn’t have one of her attacks.”

“How do you mean?”

“Doris has always taken naps, at least since I’ve known her. She said it ran in her family. She’d be talking to you one minute and then the next—bam—she’d be sleeping.”

“Sounds like narcolepsy.”

“That’s what she said it was,” Nellie said.

“You think she fell asleep on the beach?”

“She must have. But I’ve never known her not to wake up after a few minutes. I guess the heat got to her.”

Colleen racked her brain, trying to recall what she had learned in her training about narcolepsy. She remembered reading about the sleepiness that Nellie had described and how it was often accompanied by muscle weakness brought on by intense emotion. Perhaps Doris had experienced some type of sudden loss of muscle tone and strength—possibly even paralysis—and, given her age and the heat, her body shut down before she was able to recover and wake up. Any detail Nellie could provide might help with her report and decision about whether or not to use the actors for future exercises.

“Tell me. Did Doris have any triggers that seemed to bring on her attacks? Anything that you can think of that might have happened at the training exercise?”

Nellie pursed her lips, thinking. “No,” she said. “The only thing that consistently brought on attacks was fighting with Marvin.”

“Which, I understand, she was doing a lot of lately.”

“You heard about that? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Fawn’s in the show and dates Chip. I suppose he told you.”

“Actually, I heard it from Bill. Bill said that when he broke the news of Doris’s death to Marvin, he became quite angry. Apparently, Marvin wasn’t too happy about Doris being in the play.”

“Oh,” Nellie said. “Well, I think I know why that—”

“What are you two talking about?” asked Myrtle, interrupting as she climbed the bridge.

“I was telling Colleen about Doris’s condition,” Nellie said.

“What a bunch of bunk.”

“You don’t believe Doris suffered from narcolepsy?” Colleen asked, not surprised by Myrtle’s reaction but wanting to know her reason.

“In a word, no. She used it as an excuse to get out of rehearsal. Now she’s gone and left me with a role to fill.”

“I hardly think Doris died to get out of playing a role,” Colleen said, scolding Myrtle for her coldness.

“Perhaps not,” Myrtle said, only slightly admonished, “but I’m still an actor short.”

“I could do Doris’s role,” Nellie said.

Myrtle wrinkled her nose. “You’re not an actor, Nell. You’re a hoofer. You’re good at tap dancing and moving the boat cutouts.”

“Lane doesn’t feel that way,” Nellie said, defiantly raising her chin. “I bet he’d let me do Doris’s role.”

Colleen watched with amusement as Myrtle clenched her fists into balls and her cheeks darkened from light pink to crimson. Even in the small Corolla theater company, there were power struggles.

“Since when is Lane Walker in charge of this production?” Myrtle huffed. “What does he know about the horses? Not that much, I tell you.”

“Maybe not,” Nellie said. “But he knows a lot more than you do about acting. And I’m going to go ask him.” Nellie marched down the bridge toward the Whalehead Club, and Sparky followed.

“Sparky, no,” Colleen called, and the dog halted.

“Nellie Byrd, you’d better not flirt with that Lothario to get that role,” Myrtle yelled, chasing after her.

Colleen was amazed by how rapidly Nellie crossed the short distance to the Whalehead Club. Myrtle stormed behind her, struggling to catch up, and pursued Nellie inside. Colleen’s phone rang and she checked the number. Pinky. Damn. She had forgotten all about meeting him at the house. The last thing she wanted to do was get on Pinky’s bad side, after he had been so generous about donating the property.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” she said after hitting the phone’s
ANSWER
button. “Something came up. I should have called.”

“I was worried, Chief McCabe. It’s not like you to be late.”

The genuine concern in his voice doubled her feelings of guilt. Since Max Cascio’s arrest for drug trafficking and the murders of a local art teacher and a fisherman, Pinky had been doing everything in his power to make up for the havoc that his visiting nephew had left in his wake. Pinky had generously donated supplies to the school’s art program and money to the station’s S.E.A.L.S. Ocean Safety Mini Camp for kids. He had even stopped setting fire to debris, saving Colleen numerous trips to his office trailer.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, walking back with Sparky toward her SUV. “I’d still like to meet with you about the arrangements, if you’re available.”

“Over dinner?”

“Tonight?” she asked, panicked.

“I’m afraid I have plans tonight, but tomorrow is free. How about then?”

She covered the phone with her hand and groaned. While she and Pinky had come a long way in the last few weeks, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for dinner with him. But how could she turn him down when he was being so understanding about having been stood up? Plus, she still needed to persuade him to distract Hayley Thorpe not only from shadowing her but from hanging around Bill.

“Dinner tomorrow sounds fine,” she said, resigned to her fate.

“Why don’t we make it eight,” he suggested. “In case something else comes up.”

Pinky was teasing, but he was also making a point about not wanting to be stood up again. She was going to have to play by his rules. “Eight it is,” she said, reaching her SUV. “See you then.”

Colleen and Sparky made their way out of the Currituck Heritage Park and toward the station. Her personal concerns would have to be put on the back burner. They had already interfered enough for one day, and there wasn’t anything she could do to resolve them at this point anyway. As she passed Monteray Plaza and turned into the Whalehead community, she actually found herself looking forward to the debriefing. It would be a welcome distraction.

The meeting with her team about the events of the morning went better than she had expected. Even the animosity Chip had felt toward Kenny about flirting with Fawn had temporarily disappeared in the wake of Doris’s death and Hayley Thorpe’s arrival. They had had a moment of silence for Doris, and Colleen had reassured her team that there was nothing any of them could have done to save her. All were in agreement that the actors had been a helpful addition to the training exercise and encouraged Colleen, despite what had happened with Doris, to use them again. She had told them she’d think about it. After dismissing her team, returning phone calls and e-mails, and going through orders for new equipment, Colleen was ready to head home. She clicked the light off on her desk, stretched, and descended the corrugated-metal stairs.

“Night, Jimmy,” she said, and patted him on the shoulder as she passed him in the recreation room.

“Hey,” he called after her. “I forgot to ask. How’d things work out with Salvatore?”

“I never made it out to see the house, so we’re meeting tomorrow night,” she said, wanting to get out of the room before Jimmy had an opportunity to interrogate her.

Sensing she was hiding something, he was up from the sofa and by her side before she had a chance to get out the door. “You meeting him at night? You mean like after hours?” he asked, grinning as he walked backward in front of her across the parking lot.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Bill know about this?”

Colleen came to a halt. “Bill? What does he have to do with anything?” she snapped.

Jimmy threw up his hands in surprise. “Nothing, apparently,” he said. “It’s just that, well, some of the guys still think Salvatore had something to do with what happened with his nephew.”

“Pinky’s been cleared. Ask Bill. He’ll tell you,” she said, annoyed that after everything that had happened and all of Pinky’s efforts, some community members continued to believe Pinky was part of the Mafia.

“Hey, I’m on your side,” he said. “Just thought you should know what some of the guys might think about you being in tight with Salvatore.”

“Which is why you’re not going to tell them. I’m meeting Mr. Salvatore to go over the details of the house demo. That’s all.”

“Does he know that?” Jimmy asked with a raised brow.

Colleen swatted at him. She didn’t want to think about what Pinky might or might not want from their dinner meeting. “Have you seen Sparky?” she asked, changing the subject and searching for the dog.

Jimmy nodded toward the side of the station, where Sparky was sleeping in a ditch he had dug under the picnic bench. Colleen gave a short whistle. The Border collie raised his head, yawned, crawled from under the table, and trotted to her.

“You ready to go home?” Sparky wagged his tail. “Call if anything comes up,” she said to Jimmy.

“You, too,” he said with a wink, and scurried away before she could really hit him.

She grinned. As annoying as Jimmy could be, she was deeply grateful for his concern. She thought of him as more like a brother than a colleague and knew that no matter what, he always had her back. It was a relief knowing she could leave the station in his hands. She didn’t know what she’d do if anything ever happened to him. She watched him disappear inside before heading home.

Chapter 4

Nothing like discovering
a dead senior citizen on the beach, breaking up a fight at the station, catching your best friend and would-be boyfriend kissing a celebrity soap star, witnessing dramatics between old friends Nellie and Myrtle, and arranging a dinner date with a real estate developer who some suspect is a mobster to exhaust oneself, Colleen thought as she parked in front of her house and cut the engine. It felt like days since she had been home. She couldn’t wait to change out of her clothes, take a hot shower, and relax with a nice glass of red wine. She’d even allow Smokey to sit on her lap if the cranky cat so chose.

She and Sparky exited the vehicle. The dog raced up the steps, stared at the doorknob and then back at Colleen. Sparky had obviously had a long day, too, skipping his usual evening search for the rabbit that lived in the yard in preference for a meal and his bed. He pawed at the front door. “All right, all right, I’m coming,” she said, climbing the stairs and inserting the key into the lock. As soon as the door was open a crack, he forced his way in. Normally, she’d stop such behavior; but tonight, she couldn’t blame him. It had been a long day.