Murder, She Barked

I turned on the GPS remote receiver. It worked! It showed the GPS collar located behind us. I turned it off to save the battery. If Kim came by on the golf cart, we’d probably notice it.

I relaxed and strolled around the golf cart so Trixie could investigate scents. The chilly night air held the promise of winter. Stars sparkled in the dark sky. They never seemed so close or vivid at home.

I couldn’t remember the last time I saw the Milky Way so clearly. We returned to the golf cart. Trixie sat up, alert, her haunches pressed against me. My arm around her, I stroked her chest.

Time ticked by slower than molasses. I flicked on my phone. No bars. Not a mile away, at Kim’s cabin, they could get a signal, but not here. Weird.

I began to wonder if I had misjudged her. Maybe she wouldn’t be sneaking around again tonight. It just made no sense whatsoever that she would want Trixie. I clutched Trixie even closer at the thought.

Kim had to wait until Ben fell asleep, which I suspected would be around midnight. Of course, if they’d rented a movie to watch, it could be later than that.

I toyed with the notion of looking for a spot where I could get a cell-phone connection. What could I text him that would get her attention? Assuming she went through his phone messages again. What a rat. Being nosy by nature, I understood the desire to peek, but I had enough respect for other people not to pry. Good grief, it was like steaming someone’s mail open. Wasn’t that a felony?

What if I was wrong about Kim? I couldn’t be totally off because I’d found Trixie’s collar on her golf cart. It would be hard to explain that as a coincidence. If it had been some kind of joke or trick, wouldn’t she have admitted it?

Trixie turned her head toward the road, concentrating. Very briefly, I switched on the GPS remote. Indeed, the collar moved toward us. I covered Trixie with Oma’s black jacket in case Kim happened to look our way.

It would have been easy to miss the golf cart rolling along without any lights because the engine was virtually noiseless. I sat perfectly still until she had passed, switched on the GPS, and waited until I thought she was far enough ahead before I pulled out behind her, my lights off, too, which I was fairly sure was illegal.

As I expected, she headed to town. The GPS allowed me to stay far behind her. Without it, I would have missed her turn onto Oak Street. But then the collar stopped moving.

I parked in front of Ellie’s house in a rush. Grabbing the dark jacket and Trixie’s leash, I ran along the middle of the street. Too bad Kim wasn’t wearing the GPS collar. We might lose her.

A few lights remained on in windows, but most were dark. A dog in a yard barked as we sped by. Trixie yapped a couple of times, excited to be on the run.

“Hush!” I could only hope that barking dogs wouldn’t draw Kim’s attention. After all, dogs and cats ruled in Wagtail. Barking was the norm.

We discovered her golf cart parked at the very end of the road, where it intersected with the pedestrian zone. She had left it in front of Philip’s 1864 bed-and-breakfast. I paused to collect the GPS collar from the golf cart.

We ran again. The cold night air burned in my lungs. When we hit the shopping area, we came to a stop. Which way had she gone?

To my surprise, a few people walked dogs, even at that late hour. I tried to be methodical about scanning the area. Fortunately, I spotted her—mostly because she was running.

We cut across the green in the middle and followed her to—good heavens! Was she going to Jerry’s house? Didn’t they say the killer returns to the scene of the crime?

She walked past it and vanished along the side of the house next door to it.

Thirty-seven

We casually walked by the house. Lights shone upstairs. Another light turned on and seconds later, the downstairs windows glowed, too.

I peered at the green mailbox with shamrocks on it, hoping to see a name. No such luck.

We doubled back and quietly slipped into Jerry’s yard. At least we wouldn’t disturb anyone there.

Trixie tugged at the leash, sniffing the ground and trying to pull me where she wanted to go. We sneaked along the side of Jerry’s house. From the backyard, I could see inside a brightly lighted window in the back of the neighboring home.

Tall cabinets mounted on the wall indicated it was the kitchen. I coaxed Trixie deeper into Jerry’s backyard. Bingo! Another window and a much better angle. I could see Kim’s blond hair shining under the lights. She gestured. A plea? I wished she were yelling. I might be able to hear what she was saying.

A tall man with fluffy reddish hair styled in high waves came into view. Brewster!

Trixie dug in a flower bed, tossing dirt. “Stop that,” I hissed, using my shoe to push the dirt back into place.