Murder, She Barked

Dave stared at them. “Where did you find this?”

I had to tell him the truth, even if put me in a bad light. “Trixie dug it up in Jerry’s flower bed.”

“You should have left it there, untouched.”

“I didn’t realize she found it.”

Dave closed his eyes for a second too long. “And what were you doing there? Snooping?”

“Spying, if you must know.”

Oma coughed. “That’s my girl!”

Dave stared at me with tired eyes. “On whom?”

“On Ben’s girlfriend, Kim.”

“And why was Kim there?”

“To see Brewster.”

“About what?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. She stole Trixie in the middle of the night. I have no idea why.”

Dave’s shoulders sagged forward. “Two murders and you’re worried about a spat over a dog? Or is the dog just a pawn in an argument over Ben?” He stood up, pulled a plastic bag from his pocket, and turned it over his hand, inside out. He grabbed the items, slid the bag over his fingers and sealed the gold inside. “This, however, could be helpful. Thank you.”

He turned to go.

“No breakfast?” asked Oma.”

“Not today, thanks.” He loped out.

That off my mind, I turned to my other immediate problem. I had to bring up the rat issue carefully. A waitress I didn’t recognize came to take our order.

“Could I interest you in caramel banana oatmeal?”

Caramel put a decidedly unhealthy but ever so yummy spin on oatmeal. Who could resist? I ordered one for me and a doggy version for Trixie.

Instead of upsetting Oma by suggesting there could be a rat, or more than one, in the storage room, I told her about Trixie’s behavior.

Oma finished her coffee. “Most peculiar. Do you mind having a look around?” She handed me her key ring. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

I would have to show her a rat nest before she would believe it. I shuddered at the thought.

The waitress delivered our breakfast and scuttled off to other tables.

“Where’s Shelley?” I asked.

“You like Shelley, too, I see. It’s her day off. I worry about her. She has a lot on her plate taking care of her little boy while her husband is overseas on military duty.”

“You worry too much.”

“Me?” She laughed. “At least Zelda dumped that no-goodnik who was mooching off her. We have to find her someone better.”

“Oma!” I scolded. “Look, I think I was pretty nice about that stunt that you and Rose pulled to throw Holmes and me together. But you have to stop doing things like that. I know you mean well, but you have to butt out of other people’s love lives.”

“Yes. You are quite right, my Holly. I will keep this in mind.” She rose. “You will excuse me, yes? And don’t forget to tell me what you find upstairs.”

She could bet on that.

Caramel turned out to be just about the best thing ever on oatmeal. I savored every bite of the sweet, slightly gooey caramel, which clung to the oatmeal and fresh slices of banana. I noticed that Trixie had no problem polishing off her bowl of oatmeal, sans caramel, either.

I lingered over a second cup of tea to put off the rat excursion as long as possible. It was a bad call.

Thirty-eight

If I had only stopped at one cup of tea and gone off to hunt rats, I wouldn’t have been there when Philip waltzed in.

I was trapped. Even if I made a beeline for Oma’s private kitchen, it would be too late. He would have seen me. It was time to straighten him out.

He had the nerve to peck me on the cheek. Pulling a chair too close to me, he held onto the back of my chair, like he was staking a claim.

“Thank you for the chocolates.”

“My pleasure. I can’t stay long. I just had to stop by to say good morning.”

“Look, Philip. I’m sure you’re a wonderful guy, but I just . . .” Aha! I could tell him the truth, sort of, without hurting him. “Well, something happened, and now I’m not sure that Ben and I are over after all. You understand.”

His face fell. “Aunt Birdie won’t like this.”

Who cared what Aunt Birdie thought? I tried another tack. “Maybe you don’t realize that Zelda is crazy about you. I would never want to hurt her.”

“Zelda? The psychic? She is crazy! No, Holly. We’re meant to be together. It’s our destiny. We belong together.”

“Philip,” I said gently, “we hardly know each other.”

“There’s chemistry between us.”

I was beginning to feel chemistry all right—noxious chemistry. It was time to make my exit. Dire circumstances called for extreme measures. “I’m sorry, Philip. You’re going way too fast here. It’s not public knowledge yet, but Ben and I have set the date. We’re getting married.” Okay, that was a big, fat honking lie, but this guy needed to back off! I rose, clutching Trixie’s leash and hauled out of there as fast as I could without attracting more attention. We climbed the stairs quickly, and in case he followed us, I headed straight to the storage room, preferring to deal with the rodents.

I unlocked the door and let it swing open.

Trixie strained at the leash. I shuddered to think what she smelled. My puny human nose didn’t register anything—it wasn’t even very musty. What did rats smell like?