The Telltale Turtle (The Pet Psychic Mysteries) (4 page)

"I'm afraid so. Maybe as the shock wears off, he might remember a little more."

"Lucky for you your vet at the clinic verifies where you were last night when we think Mrs. Jamison died." He closed her file and stood up. "Go home and don't get into trouble here in Wilmington, ma'am. We're not like LA or New York. It's a small town. You know that from living here. We tend to remember faces and names. Marry some guy who lives a long time, okay?"

"What about Ferndelle Jamison?" Mary Catherine ignored his ultimatums. "I'm sure her death wasn't an accident. I might be able to coax something more from Tommy."

"We can handle it without the turtle, thanks anyway. Lucky for you, the medical examiner thinks it happened about midnight, while you were at your clinic. The taxi driver seems to have a pat alibi for that time as well"

"So she was murdered?"

"We don't know for sure yet. But if it was an accident, it was one of those weird ones like your late husbands had. I'll have an officer drive you home, ma'am."

"Thank you, Detective Angellus." She got to her feet slowly after all that time sitting in the hard wooden chair. "I hope it won't be necessary for me to come back again."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone killed that poor woman. I hope you can find out who it was on your own. If not, as I said, Tommy might be some help. I've been involved with police investigations before. In LA, there was a young girl who was kidnapped. The only witness was her dog, Sparky. The police were very happy when I told them Melissa's kidnapper was her uncle, a man Sparky knew well because he frequently brought dog treats with him when he visited. It seems the uncle was setting things up for a while before the incident. People think dogs are only concerned with what they eat, but that's not true." She handed him a business card. "Here's where you can find me."

"The turtle is gonna help us out, right?" He laughed. "Sorry, ma'am. It just got the best of me. I think we can take care of this without the turtle. But tell him thanks for offering." "

I will. Goodbye, Detective."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Roberts. Stay out of trouble, you hear?"

THE BLACK AND WHITE squad car let Mary Catherine and Baylor out in front of the red brick building that faced River Street. The building leaned slightly backward as though drawn by the sound of the sea coming from that direction. To the front was the Cape Fear River. Lights blossomed across the smooth, dark surface of the water as daylight faded into evening.

Light also illuminated the dozen or so windows that faced her from her home. Around the building were others like it where downtown rejuvenation had created antique shops, bookstores, bars and restaurants. The same spaces had housed taverns, inns, and bawdy houses two hundred years before.

It was this building that brought her home after so many years. Her Aunt Sylvia Caldwell had left it to her. It was a surprise since she didn't even know she had an Aunt Sylvia. But everything was in order. Sylvia had been her mother's sister. Mary Catherine's mother had been a Conner, married to Douglas Conner who had left her mother the day after their second daughter was born. Not an auspicious beginning.

The bequest came on the day George Roberts, her fourth late husband, fell off the grandstand at Hialeah. He had a habit of betting on bad horses. It was the first and only time she'd given him a tip about what the horses were feeling. She didn't believe horse racing was good for the animals; horses weren't competitive naturally. She hadn't wanted to encourage George either. He was already an inveterate gambler who wouldn't have had a thing if it wasn't for the huge fortune his family had left him.

When he'd won, George was overcome with excitement. He gave out a loud whoop and fell backward, crashing over the rail to the ground below. He'd managed to break his neck on the way down.

Mary Catherine was devastated and vowed never to get married or help anyone at the track again. But since George was only her fourth husband, the bets were against her. When she'd received the letter from Aunt Sylvia's attorney, it was like a gift from heaven. She'd left Wilmington right after her mother's death when she was eighteen and had never gone back. She'd had a wonderful, exciting life, but she suddenly felt a yearning to go home.

Her aunt's attorney had waited until she'd arrived to tell her the place was in terrible condition. Aunt Sylvia had been sick for years, apparently, and nothing had been done on the property. But with some patience and a large portion of the money she'd managed to save down through the years, she'd brought it back up to livable condition. She'd renovated the upper floors into an apartment for herself and started The Riverfront Free Clinic in the downstairs area that had once been her aunt's sewing shop.

When her agent had approached WRSC about doing the pet psychic show from there, they were happy to have her. She'd settled in and reacquainted herself with the place where she was born by taking long walks along the river and looking out at the Atlantic coast from Carolina Beach. But it wasn't until she'd found Baylor last year that she finally felt she fit in.

He was one of her rescued animals. She'd heard him calling as he was being born to a mother cat that was all but dead after being hit by a car outside her door. He was the only one of the litter to survive. He'd looked into her eyes and they'd fallen in love.

"What happened?" She opened the front door to the clinic after waving to the officer as he left. Danny's worried expression was mirrored by the other two people with him.

"Danny said you were arrested for murder." Jenny Harper, the clinic's official veterinarian, shook her head. "I told him he was crazy.

"They took us both in," Danny elaborated for the sake of the young red-headed volunteer who was there with Jenny. "They let me go right away. I wasn't sure why they kept MC, but sometimes these things are loco."

"I'm sure it was because she was more interesting," Jenny said.

The young volunteer from UNCWilmington smiled at Danny. Mary Catherine wasn't surprised. He was a flirt, but there weren't many girls who didn't like him.

It had been a fortunate day when she'd met him while he was looking for fares along River Street. They'd become good friends through his knowledge of the city as he helped her find hurt and lost animals.

"What really happened?" Jenny asked. "The police called and asked me a lot of questions about both of you."

"I told you," Danny answered. "We found a dead woman while we were looking for an injured turtle that MC heard. The woman was murdered. Muerto. Someone cut her throat"

"I want to hear it from her." Jenny snubbed him, as usual, with a toss of her long gray hair.

Mary Catherine repeated the story with embellishments. "I believe they think she was murdered. Poor Colin. I have to call him right away. What a shock for him! Ferndelle Jamison was his aunt."

Baylor nudged her leg with his head.

"Oh, that's right. Tommy said she wasn't alone when she died. Baylor thinks Colin killed her."

Tall and gaunt, jenny rolled her expressive blue eyes, her gray hair a cloud around her face. "The worried guy who manages the radio station?"

"Yes"

"Who's Tommy?" Jenny wondered.

"Tommy is the turtle." Mary Catherine took the yellow-bellied slider out of her purse. She'd wet him down when she went to the restroom at the police station, but he was still in pain. "Maybe you could take a look at him. I don't think it's serious. I think he might be in shock."

Jenny took the turtle from her. She'd known Mary Catherine since the free clinic opened, and nothing she told her was a surprise anymore. "So this is your only witness to the crime?"

"Yes. And he's obscure about it. He keeps repeating something about his bowl being broken and wanting something to eat."

"Poor thing." Jenny stroked his shell as she spoke to Mary Catherine. "Bruno missed you this afternoon. He acts crazy when you don't come to see him." "

I have to find him a home. He eats like a horse!" Mary Catherine shook her head. "No, Baylor, not with us. He needs a big yard he can romp in and a family to play with."

"It might help if you'd tell him not to bite everyone who comes through the door," Danny added. "I think he only likes you, MC."

"He seems to like Bernie," Jenny said.

"The handyman?" Danny's dark eyes looked hurt. "I can't believe it! He doesn't even know him."

"We haven't found the right person for him," Mary Catherine agreed. "But not tonight. I'm starving and exhausted. If you'll excuse us, we're going upstairs."

"We haven't exactly had a picnic here waiting for you, either," Jenny assured her. "I'll look at the turtle-then I'm out of here."

"Thank you." Mary Catherine smiled at them. "I appreciate you worrying about me." She sighed. "Yes, Baylor. They were worried about you too."

Jenny and Danny bent down to scratch Baylor's ears and talk to him. Mary Catherine dragged herself upstairs to her apartment, not needing to add to Baylor's already overly large ego. She fell back in one of her red velvet chairs and closed her eyes.

Danny called out to her as he and jenny left for the night, shutting off the lights and locking the door to the clinic behind them. Baylor slowly crept up the stairs and found a soft place to flex his claws between Mary Catherine and the side of the chair.

She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until a loud knocking at the clinic door brought her to her feet. It was a little after midnight. She'd tried again to call Colin around 9:30, but there was no answer at his condo or his cell phone. She realized he might still be at the police station.

The knocking downstairs continued until she found her pink chenille robe and slippers, touched up her hair and applied a coat of lipstick. She still looked like she'd been asleep.

"I know there's nothing wrong with that since I was asleep," she argued with Baylor. "But I have a reputation to protect, you know. What am I saying? You can't possibly understand. You lick your fur a few times a day and everyone says you're beautiful! Never mind."

She slid open the peephole in the clinic door. The original iron bolt-and-slab door was still on the building. The carpenter who'd done her remodeling assured her it was once used to keep rowdy pirates out. Her building had been a public house in the late 1700s; closing in the early 1800s to reopen again as a hotel.

A tall, thin man dressed in a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows was standing on the stoop. He reminded her of a young Jimmy Stewart, as he appeared in Fire Creek, one of her mother's favorite movies. "Yes?"

"I'm Charlie Dowd. I found this dog in the street. No one else will help him. He's just a pup."

"Our vet has gone home, too. What's wrong with him?"

"I think he was hit by a car."

She bit her lip. The beagle puppy's thoughts of pain and fear filtered through her mind. There was no way she could stand there and not help. "Come in." She opened the door. "I'll call our vet and have her come back."

"Thank you." Charlie extended his big, raw-boned hand to her. "I'd be happy to pay, if that helps."

"I'm sure it will." She shook his hand. Nice hands. Strong and confident. "I'll call Jenny. You try to make him comfortable over there in the doggy bed. He's in a lot of pain."

"Thanks. I appreciate your help. I saw the car hit him. It just kept on going."

"People don't value a dog's life much," she commiserated as she dialed Jenny's number. The cantankerous old vet wouldn't be happy about being disturbed. "Come to think of it, some people don't overly value human life, do they?"

He agreed with her, glancing around the clinic's waiting room. "You're Mary Catherine Roberts, right? The pet psychic? I've seen the ad for your talk show on the sides of buses. I hope I didn't disturb you and your husband."

Her eyes narrowed. Was this a fishing expedition or was he immediately taken with her?

It had happened before with her third late husband. Per was immediately in love with her after they'd met at a rooftop party in Manhattan, given by a paranormal magazine publisher she worked for at the time. They were married within the week. He was wealthy, fun-loving, and wanted to take her everywhere.