Out of the Shadows (Bellingwood Book 12) (19 page)

"Was the car put there on purpose so it would be hidden?"

"Maybe."

"Oh come on, Aaron."

"Fine. We aren't sure if it was on purpose or what, but it was driven there. It didn't end up in the creek because of an accident. It was too far off the road. No amount of, to use your word, careening, would have put it where it was."

"How was Jim Bridger killed?"

"Gunshot."

"Really! How was Jeremy Booten killed?"

"Gunshot."

"Was the same gun used for both?"

"I don't know that for sure yet. We're still running tests. This isn't television crime scene investigation, you know. Some of these things take more than twenty-four hours."

"Sure. I get that. Did you find anything in the car or in Jeremy's room at the inn that points to a killer?"

"Polly..." Aaron's voice held a note of warning.

"I'm pushing too far?"

"You're getting close. However, no we don't have a suspect yet."

"Were you, by any chance, leaning toward Jim Bridger as a suspect before he showed up dead?"

Aaron laughed. "We hadn't yet ruled him out."

"Oh!" Polly exclaimed. "He had a Chihuahua. Did you find it?"

"A dog? No. We weren't looking for a dog."

"Have you been to his house yet?" she asked. "Maybe the poor thing is out of food and water."

"The dog wasn't there when we went to the house yesterday afternoon. I'm sure it will turn up. Maybe someone's already found it and called animal control. We can check on that. Do you want to take the dog in?"

"A Chihuahua? Here? With cats and those two big dogs. Isn't that funny," Polly said.

"Well, you are the girl who rescues the world. Maybe you should rescue the old man's dog."

"I'd rather not unless I have to," she replied. "But let me know if you find it."

"Will do. Are you finished interrogating me for the morning?"

Polly smiled. "I'm sure I'll have more, but you've answered my most pressing questions."

"I'm glad I could be there for you. Stay off the streets, okay? Two unsolved murders are enough for now."

"I won't make any promises," Polly said. "But I'll try."

"That's enough."

They ended the call and Polly put the phone down and looked at her computer. She reached over and turned off the monitor. Nothing was keeping her here.

"I'm going out for a while," she said to Stephanie as she walked out of the office. "Call if you need me."

"Wait," Stephanie said. "Can you run out to Sycamore Inn?"

"Sure. What's up?"

Stephanie stood up and went over to a cabinet, opened it and took out a box. "Grey needs more card blanks. They just came in last night."

Polly took the box. "No problem. Is he in a hurry? I have a stop I want to make before going out there."

"No," Stephanie said, shaking her head. "He's fine. I'll let him know you're stopping by."

The kitchen was dark again when Polly walked through. She loved having big events here, but at the same time, normal business was relaxing – everyone where they were supposed to be, doing what they were supposed to be doing.

Polly put the box on the passenger seat and backed out of the garage. Aaron couldn't kill her too badly, could he? She was going to call this a strictly humanitarian visit - or a canine rescue. Or something like that. She drove past the Springer House, shaking her head at the fire pit and the insanity of the people who would do the craziest things in hopes of seeing a ghost. How many of them truly believed they'd see Muriel Springer and how many were there simply because they'd gotten caught up in something they didn't know how to escape?

She drove past Jim Bridger's house, peering at it to see if anyone was there. Of course no one was there. But if the dog had come home, it would be too cold for that little thing to be outside. And if it knew how to get inside on its own, it would be lost without its owner. Who would give it food or water or make sure that its messes were cleaned up?

One more time around the block and Polly could stand it no longer. She pulled into Jim Bridger's driveway and looked to her left and then to her right, just in case someone was watching her. "That's it," she said to herself. "Look suspicious. Get out of the truck like you belong here. You know better than this."

She put her hand on the door handle and said, "What was the name of that stupid dog? It was too big for a Chihuahua. Beast? Brute? Brutus. That's it."

"Brutus," Polly called jumping to the ground. "Are you here, Brutus?" She walked through the back yard, hoping that the dog would show up and she could get out of here before she embarrassed herself and did something stupid. There was no sign of the dog.

Polly knocked on the back door and chuckled. "Stupid woman. He's dead."

She raised her voice. "Brutus, did you get inside? Are you here?" She tried the door handle and was shocked to find that it opened. Did people never lock their doors? She looked at the handle when she got inside and realized there wasn't even a lock on this door.

Wait. She was inside. This was bad. This was very bad.

"Brutus? Are you here?" Polly looked around the tiny kitchen, clean and neat. At least old Mr. Bridger wouldn't have been embarrassed to have people in his house after his death. "Come on, doggie. If you're here, please come out."

She walked into a small dining room and looked around. An old buffet stood against a wall, its top filled with old photographs. She found herself drawn to them and the progression of Jim Bridger's life. There weren't many of him as an old man, but they went back through the years, mostly him with his dogs. When she got to the pictures of his youth and childhood, she realized that quite a few of him were taken in front of the Springer House.

One of the photographs practically leaped off the buffet into her hands. She picked it up with a gasp. The young woman in the picture with a teenaged Jim Bridger was the same woman that Rebecca had sketched. Polly gulped. She didn't believe in ghosts. She didn't believe in ghosts. This couldn't be true.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

How in the world had Rebecca seen Muriel Springer? Polly sat in her truck with the engine running, trying to warm up. The outside temperature was sixty-seven degrees, but she'd been chilled to the bone. She took a deep breath and turned around to look before backing up, then remembered the backup camera. She'd gotten more used to using it, but it still wasn't second nature.

Just as she pulled the gear shift in place to reverse, she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of the camera. She opened her door and turned to look and saw a small dog limping toward home.

"Brutus," she called, and the dog looked up at her. He gave a small tail wag and Polly jumped out to grab him. He looked as if he might run away, but she talked quietly, calling him by name and approached slowly enough that he stayed still. When she could grab him, she did and gathered the poor, shivering dog into her arms. "It's okay, little one. I've got you now."

She climbed back into her truck, holding him in her arms. Once in the truck, Polly tucked the small dog into her jacket, cranked up the heat and took out her phone.

"Bellingwood Animal Clinic, how may I help you?"

"Marnie?" Polly asked.

"Yes, this is."

"Hey, this is Polly Giller. Do either of the doctors have time this morning to look at a dog?"

"Did something happen to Obiwan? Doc Ogden's out on a call."

"No, this is Jim Bridger's Chihuahua. I found the poor thing and he's limping."

"Ohhh," Marnie said. "That's too bad. Are you keeping Brutus?"

Polly laughed quietly. "I doubt it, but for now I'll take responsibility for him. When can I bring him by?"

"Come on over. Doctor Jackson is with a patient, but he can free up some time."

"Thank you. We'll be right there."

Polly checked once more before backing out and headed toward the clinic. "It's a good thing I saw you back there, you little runt. You're awfully short."

Brutus's shivering didn't stop, but he reached up and licked her chin. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get you taken care of and then find a good home. I don't know if anyone will treat you quite as well as old Mr. Bridger, but we'll see what we can do."

She pulled into the parking lot and took out her phone one more time to call Aaron.

"Oh Polly, please," he said.

"No, it's fine. I wanted to let you know that I found Brutus. He's limping and I'm parked in front of the vet. Is there any reason you need them to not look at him?"

Aaron laughed. "No, I doubt that we're going to find the clue to lead us to the killer on the poor dog. If Doc Ogden does find something odd, tell him to let us know, but otherwise, take care of the dog. Are you adopting another dog?"

"No," she said resolutely. "But I'll take care of him until we either discover if Mr. Bridger made plans for him or someone else offers him a good home. The poor thing has been through enough. Nothing like losing your master and getting stuck outside in the cold, all in one day."

"You're a soft-hearted girl," Aaron said.

"Uh huh. Don't mess with my reputation."

~~~

Doctor Jackson checked poor Brutus out, took an x-ray and discovered that his limp was nothing major, probably a sprain or weariness from having walked all night. Polly took the dog home and after spending time introducing him to the crew, gave Brutus a bath and cursed herself for not looking for his dog food while she'd been in Bridger's house. She wasn't going back. Once was more than enough when it came to breaking and entering. Okay, entering, nothing had been broken. She laughed when she realized that Aaron hadn't even asked how she'd found Brutus. At least she didn't have to hem and haw her way out of that series of questions.

The cats were the most aloof of all the animals. Obiwan had taken Brutus's entrance into the house with a grain of salt and Han was still out with Henry.

Things had been quiet in the office and with no one else working in the building, she'd taken Brutus to the barn with her after lunch. Eliseo assured her the little dog would be perfectly fine with him, so she had saddled Demi and spent a couple of hours with him, wandering through the area south of Sycamore House. They'd traveled through Joss and Nate's land, back toward the field where she'd found Jeremy Booten. Crime scene tape still marked the area and it made her shudder to remember what that grisly scene had been like.

Once the kids had returned to school this fall, Polly made an attempt to get down to ride Demi at least a couple of times a week. It was easy to get busy with everything else, but once she climbed up on his back, she remembered the joy these horses brought her. Demi was steady and strong, never asking more of her than she could give. From the beginning, he'd been her horse. He was the one who taught her how to take care of them. In fact, her animals had all taught her what they needed. She'd never lived with so many different animals and had no expertise in any of it, but little by little, she'd grown comfortable with them.

When they got back, she found Eliseo putting finishing touches on the wagon for Saturday evening's festivities. Jason's two buddies from school, Scar Vasquez and Kent Ivers, were planning to ride in the back, dressed as grave diggers. According to Eliseo, they already had their costumes, having haunted a couple of the local thrift stores until they both found dark suits and white shirts. They'd purchased rubber old-man masks and had their shovels ready to go. She smiled. No one had any idea how she enjoyed watching people fall into roles that allowed them to participate in the fun at Sycamore House. Little by little, their cast of players continued to grow, each one bringing something new.

Brutus finally fell asleep on a pile of blankets Polly had arranged in the kitchen so she could keep an eye on him while she made dinner. It had been years since she'd made lasagna, but now was as good a time as any. While Kayla, Rebecca and Andrew worked on their homework and played with the new dog in the house, she boiled pasta, cooked hamburger, made a sauce and then layered ingredients.

She didn't feel like talking and playing with the kids, there was too much rattling around in her brain. She made molasses cookies and pumpkin bars, chopped vegetables for a salad, whipped up garlic butter for bread and thought that maybe with all this work, candlelight and a tablecloth would make dinner more fun.

Henry and Han came in first.

"What's up with this?" he asked, pointing at the table.

"Just something different. It feels like we should make more of an effort to be a family."

He kissed her cheek. "You don't need to make any extra effort. I think we're a perfectly normal family."

That made her laugh. "I love you, too. But get out of those smelly clothes. We're doing this up right tonight."

"Dressing for dinner," he said. "La-ti-dah!"

Heath came in the back door and walked into the dining room. "Am I late?" he asked.

"No," Henry said. "But we're under orders to clean up. You're a mess."

Heath looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt. "Yeah. Mr. Greyson let me drive the bobcat, but I still ended up with a lot of dirt on me."

"You both have time to take a shower and put on something clean," Polly said. "But hurry."

"Where's little girl?" Henry asked.

"She's in her bedroom with our newest guest."

He tilted his head. "Guest?"

"Jim Bridger's dog, Brutus."

Henry tilted it the other way. "Is it really a guest or are you adding a new member to this household?"

"A guest," Polly said. "I promise. It's on my to-do list tomorrow. Find that dog a good home. He's a nice dog, but I don't need a yip yappy thing in the house."

He kissed her again. "I'm impressed with you showing so much sense."

"Get going," Polly said, swatting his arm. "I'm setting the table now and you don't want to be late to dinner."

While Henry and Heath cleaned up, Polly finished setting the table. This had been a strange day. Not too much out of the ordinary had happened, other than breaking into Jim Bridger's house and finding that old photograph. But she hadn't called Aaron about it and she had yet to tell Henry what she'd done, so the secret was preying on her mind. She didn't want to spook Rebecca, because she still didn't believe in ghosts and didn't want anyone to think that she did, but the whole thing was creepy.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more help tonight," Rebecca said from the door to the living room.

Polly looked up, startled. "You're fine. How's Brutus?"

Rebecca put the little dog on the floor. "I think he misses his daddy. He keeps shivering."

"They do that anyway," Polly said with a laugh. "Don't worry too much. Doctor Jackson said he'll be fine. Now if we can find him a good home."

"He can't stay here?" Rebecca asked.

Han came bounding across the dining room floor at the scent of a new animal in the house. He skidded to a stop in front of Brutus, who planted his feet and growled at the bigger dog.

"He certainly has a big impression of himself," Henry said, coming in. He'd changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Polly looked at his bare feet. She should be used to it, but she'd spent a lifetime with a father who always had his shoes and socks on. If he was truly relaxing, he'd take his shoes off. Everett always insisted that he had horribly ugly feet and the few times she saw them, she had to agree. He was much older when a doctor finally told him that he had athlete's foot and they could clear it up easily. But the training wasn't easily changed and the man still didn't like to go barefoot.

"Is this okay for dinner?" he asked. "Did I need to dress up more?"

"No" she said, smiling. "It's perfect. Would you mind taking the lasagna out of the oven so it can cool before we eat? Everything else is on the table. I'm just going to light the candles..."

"Can I turn down the overhead lights?" Rebecca interrupted.

"Absolutely," Polly said.

Heath came in as Rebecca was turning down the lights, dressed in his pajama pants and a sweatshirt and wearing slippers on his feet. "Whoa," he said. "I should change."

"You're fine." Polly gestured to the table. "I wanted to do something nice tonight. We're all here, I made a good dinner and it feels right to celebrate us."

They all sat down and Henry started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Mom put candles on the table when she made a weird meal or when she screwed something up. Dad teased her that the candles were so we couldn't see that the food was burned."

Polly cut into the lasagna. "That isn't true. Your mom is a great cook."

"She had some bad meals. One night we had candlelight and bologna sandwiches because she made a bad meatloaf," Henry said. "If you ever want to see her blush, ask if she makes meatloaf. She still doesn't. It scares her."

"Meatloaf?" Rebecca asked. "Even I make that. Mom taught me how."

He laughed. "It's easy. I know. But that night Mom did something wrong and it was hard as a rock. And it bounced, too."

"How do you know that?" Polly asked.

"Dad got all funny about it and said that he'd throw it outside for the raccoons. When it hit the ground, it bounced. Mom was so mad at him. But it was gone by the next morning."

"Coons with indigestion," Heath said quietly. "That would be something to see."

"How was your afternoon with Grey?" Polly asked him.

"He's cool. Really easy to talk to."

She put lasagna on the plate that Henry passed to her, handed it back and took another. "What did you talk about?"

"Mostly hockey. He misses it. And he told me I should learn how to play. But I don't know if I'll have time."

"If you want to learn," Henry said, "you make time."

"Oh!" Heath said louder than usual, causing everyone to look at him. "Hayden and I were wondering if he could come to Bellingwood this weekend. I told him about the haunted house and the party. Can he come? He can stay in my room with me. He'll bring a sleeping bag."

Henry and Polly glanced at each other and he nodded at her, so she spoke. "Honey, Hayden is your family and that means he's part of this crazy little family. You two never have to ask permission for him to come. All you need to do is let me know when he's planning to be here so we can make sure there's plenty of food in the house for you two. And he can sleep wherever he wants. If you guys want to, we have the air bed and he can sleep on that. But we also have the extra room on the other side of the building upstairs. He can have that, too."