Gun in the Gardenias Read online

  “You want to bet on that?”

  At that, she heard her kitchen door slam. She spun around, shocked. Mack stood there, holding a cup of coffee in his hand with a huge grin on his face. She shut off her phone and glared at him. But Mugs, Goliath, and Thaddeus were all over him. She could hardly be mean. Besides, she was delighted to see Mack anyway.

  “Now that was a dirty trick,” she complained good-naturedly.

  “Hardly a trick at all,” he said. He reached down and rubbed Mugs’s ears. “You owe these guys a lot.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s amazing how protective and how extremely good they are at defending me.”

  “What’s so strange is that they work together. It’s one thing for a dog owner to have the dog defend his owner, but it’s not just Mugs. It’s Mugs, Goliath, and Thaddeus. It’s like one takes the gun out of your attacker’s hand, while the other one knocks him down, and then Thaddeus walks up and down them, pecking away. I mean, it’s really bizarre.”

  “Well, look at that,” she said with a grin. “It’s almost like you were there.”

  He chuckled. “It’s all good. These guys deserve animal medals.”

  “Right, and they’ll get that, of course,” she said, “but I won’t get one?”

  “Does it matter to you?” He looked at her curiously. “Do you need that form of appreciation?”

  “Heavens, no. The last thing I want are more reasons for the media to be all over me. You know what that was like yesterday.”

  “If you look out front right now …” He gave her a fat smirk. Thaddeus took the opportunity to hop onto his shoulder and cuddle up against his neck. Mack sat on the deck, cross-legged, getting completely covered in dirt. He cuddled the bird. “You really are lucky.”

  “I know,” she said, all her humor fleeing. “Thaddeus is such a cuddle bug, and I had no clue it was even possible.” Then she added, “What’s out front?”

  “If you dare, you can peek around the corner.”

  She shot him a dark look and sighed knowingly. “It’s the media, isn’t it?”

  He looked at her and said, “Why don’t you take a look?”

  Chapter 3

  Thursday Early Morning …

  Taking his word, Doreen crept around the side of the house, staying by the fence, until she got to the side where the bushes were. Then she moved into the bushes as far as she could and peered over the fence. And groaned. The entire cul-de-sac was full of TV vans, reporters, and cameramen. It was chaos.

  Beside her, behind the fence in the next yard, one of her neighbors growled, startling a shriek out of her. “See? I told you. Neighborhood has gone to pot since you arrived. Why don’t you move away and take all those irritating noisemakers with you?”

  She didn’t turn toward the voice, but she heard the rustle of bushes and then a door slam. She groaned. She would never be friends with her neighbors, would she?

  Resigned, she headed back to Mack and said, “The media has completely taken over the road.”

  “Crystal’s disappearance ten years ago made a huge wave across the nation. We had no clue what was going on back then, and now that she’s been found …”

  “Have you been in contact with her?” she asked in worry. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

  “We spoke with her last night. Her mother has spoken with her too.”

  “Oh, thank heavens. Can you help her come home?”

  “Yes, but we need to get the paperwork for her. Mexico isn’t arguing her right to come back to Canada, but we’re slowly getting documentation to allow her across the borders.”

  “Hopefully soon?”

  “I would think so. She is a Canadian citizen, and we do have a passport and birth certificate for her. So it’s just red tape holding things up.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’d love to meet her.”

  “I think it’s mutual. She’s already spoken about you,” he said, then gestured to her pets. “She also knows about these guys.”

  Doreen smiled. “They are definitely part of all this. They were hugely helpful in getting her back and in solving her case.”

  They sat for a moment in companionable silence. Then Mack said, “So you need to tell me what you know.”

  “Do I though?” she asked with a teasing but hopeful tinge in her voice. When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “You won’t leave me alone until I do, so I’ll tell you what I know. And, if it’s nothing, then it’s nothing. Remember Penny’s case?”

  “How could I forget,” he said drily. “Believe it or not it was only a week ago.”

  “Seriously?” She thought about it and shook her head. “I guess it was. But how crazy is that?”

  “It’s seriously crazy,” he said. “But what about Penny?”

  “Remember when I had an intruder one night, and I chased him down the backyard and up the path?”

  He nodded. “As I recall, you didn’t say anything to me at the time, only later.”

  “Yes, and don’t go getting angry with me now because it’s probably a good thing I didn’t catch him,” she said. “One of them, whoever that one was—and remember? I said I thought it was two people—one jumped over the fence where this guy lives.” She pointed.

  “And you thought at that time it was this Steve guy, right?”

  She nodded and grinned. “See? You do remember.”

  “What I remember,” he growled, “is you went after an intruder on your own at one-thirty in the morning.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was Penny first. And then Steve was there, and he’s the one who jumped over the fence. I presume Penny disappeared in a different direction. That’s why I thought the intruder went from small to large. I didn’t know if it was due to the shadows or not, but, when he jumped, I thought something was in his hand. Now I’m pretty sure we know who owned the gun. Or at least he had the gun on him when in my neighbor’s yard.”

  “But, if he jumped over the fence, why would he lose the gun?”

  “Maybe because, when he jumped, it fell out of his hand, his pocket, his belt, or wherever he was keeping it. It was dark outside, and he didn’t dare turn on a light because I’d find him. Plus, somebody from the house might see him, so he took off.”

  “But wouldn’t he have come back the next day?”

  “Maybe he did,” she said. “And maybe Steve saw the old guy gardening. Who knows? For all we know, Steve might not have remembered which house it was, and he was busy checking the other backyards first.”

  Mack got up, Thaddeus still on his shoulder. With the dog and cat at his heels, he walked to the end of her backyard.

  She followed, knowing he was figuring out how hard it would be to check her neighbors’ backyards.

  As he stood there, he nodded. “Everybody’s got a fence, don’t they?”

  “Everybody but me now,” she said. “Yes.”

  “So, can you point out where the guy jumped the fence?”

  Still carrying their coffees, they wandered down the creek.

  “That rock was here,” she said. “I’ll say it was that property.”

  He pulled up his phone to check something and then nodded. “You’re right. That’s where the gun was found.” Then he glared at her.

  She widened her eyes and said, “So now, instead of saying thank-you like any nice gentleman would do, you’re mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad at you. It just constantly amazes me how you can always be in the middle of trouble.”

  “I am not in the middle of trouble,” she said. “I just gave you a very big lead on yet another case. What does that have to do with me being in trouble?”

  “No clue,” he said cheerfully. He spun around, hooked an arm around her shoulder, and walked her back toward her house. “I can go to work now and fill out some forms.”

  “Good,” she said, “because I’m tearing the house apart.”

  At that, he stopped. “What?”

  She shrugged. “Everything looks so much better now, but I
’ve still got a lot to sort through. I know that, if I don’t get it all done at once, I’ll never get it all done. So I thought I would designate one place as a storage area—the basement or the garage probably—and get everything out of all the rooms. I’ll start cleaning and scrubbing each room from top to bottom too, once everything’s been hauled out. Then I’ll have a garage sale or will make a dump trip, after I’ve sorted what I want to keep and see what’s left.”

  “You know what? That’s not a bad idea,” he said with a grin. Then he shook his head. “That’s the problem with moving into an already full house. You have to deal with the stuff still there.”

  “Exactly, and some of the stuff is definitely old. Maybe not usable and maybe was never usable,” she said. “Nobody said Nan was always the most common-sense person.”

  “Exactly. The dining room should be empty already, isn’t it?”

  “I think one or two chairs are left. I also think a busted coffee table is downstairs in the basement. I’m not sure. But I want everything out, including the stuff in that root cellar corner. Then I’ll make sure there’s nothing else to sell so I can finally deal with the last of it.”

  “That should take at least all day and keep you nicely out of trouble,” he said. “I approve.”

  “Huh, so says you,” she said. “For all you know, I could find all kinds of other things down there that send me on more cold cases.”

  He glared at her. “First, you’ll get yourself some food. And then you’ll get started. Don’t tackle a big job like that without a good meal in you. You’re already tired, and your body is stressed, so it needs to be fed properly.”

  “Speaking of which, you know how to cook pork chops, don’t you?” she asked suspiciously.

  He chuckled. “I do. And, yes, Friday night, pork chops are on the menu.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “Maybe by then I’ll have everything in the garage. I guess some of it will have to go to the dining room and the living room, if I run out of space.”

  “Make it the dining room,” he suggested. “It’ll be easier to move the pieces out to the garage from there.”

  “Good point,” she said. Then she walked him through her house and to the front door. She leaned against the porch railing as he backed down the driveway and drove away. All the news vehicles, cameras, and journalists had to move when he backed up. As soon as they realized she stood out here, they turned their attention to her. She rushed inside the house, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Not knowing if anybody would really push the limit, she set the alarm on that door and went back to the kitchen. Now, to prepare an omelet and then get down to work.

  Chapter 4

  Thursday Late Morning …

  Three hours later, Doreen had moved out every unwanted item from upstairs, leaving her mattress on the floor of the master bedroom. But, instead of getting those things as far as the dining room, she only made it to the living room. She had culled out the closets and the bathrooms, and—aside from her toiletries and the clothes she had already sorted in her bedroom and those she had moved to the guest room closet—she completely emptied the second floor.

  Deciding that was likely all she could do for the moment, she grabbed the cleaning rags and headed back upstairs, picking the spare room to start on. Although it was full of clothes she still had to decide whether to keep or not, she wiped the shelves and the floors and washed the walls, the doors, the windows, and the ledges.

  By the time she had completely finished spring-cleaning all the upstairs, she had a sprawled pile of boxes and containers in her living room. She wiped the stairs as she went down. Then she made a quick trip halfway up to reach for the banister where she had forgotten a couple dusty spindles. She gave a hearty sigh when she made it back to the first floor. It had taken her longer than she thought, but it was to be expected.

  She wondered if she should sort through the piles or keep going. Frowning, she walked into the dining room and found a box of odds and ends. She picked it up and carried it to the living room to add to the rest and cleaned the dining room from top to bottom. She would love to get somebody in here to look at design options with her. She wanted to renovate this room into the open layout she preferred. Still, that was one more room done.

  She took a break and made herself a list as she put on the teakettle. Quickly she jotted down what she had done so far and then wrote down the things she still had to do. After that, she walked into the laundry room, which also led to the garage. She had to sort a lot of items here too—boxes of stuff, old coats, and boots. She picked up everything and moved all of it to the center of the garage.

  Most of the things left in the garage were junk. She made a second pile in the center for the laundry room contents. That included the laundry soap and all those weird sprays Nan seemed to collect. They made no sense to Doreen. Then she pulled the washing machine and dryer out from the wall, so she could clean behind, finding a dozen odd pieces of lost laundry. She also set the empty washing machine to do a heavy self-cleaning cycle.

  With that room sparkling, she walked back to the kitchen. “Well, guys, what do you think?”

  They were sound asleep, snoring on the floor, close enough where they could see her, yet far enough they weren’t bothered by her multiple bangs and clangs and moving around of things. She walked out to the garage and looked at the stacks there. She started on the easy things—the laundry soap and that one spray she recognized. She picked those up and put them back on a shelf in the laundry room. And then she studied the rest of the stuff, wondering if she wanted to sort them all right now—which would put her off track—or if she wanted to just continue cleaning the rooms.

  Now, however, the trouble was, she had left everything else from the second floor in the living room. That was why Mack had suggested moving everything to the dining room. Or the garage in the beginning. She rolled up her sleeves and transferred everything from the living room out to the garage—except for those two pot chairs. And somehow that was almost symbolic. She walked back in to a fully available living room, outside of that notorious catch-all hall closet. She walked toward it, almost as if she’d never seen it before. Then she opened it, only to be overwhelmed by coats. She groaned and slammed it closed, leaning forward so her forehead rested on the wood. “Oh, Nan,” she said. “Just why?”

  She opened it again and stared, but there was no help for it. She counted twelve coats in all. There was a rod in the garage. Maybe she would hang these up out there, without sorting through them first, but that would just add to her workload later. She pulled out the twelve coats, laid them over the pot chairs, and emptied one layer from the front closet. More shoes, boots, hats, gloves, and scarves. She put all that into a huge garbage bag and carried it to the garage.

  When she returned, she wiped the inside of the closet and the door, leaving the shelves and the stuff stacked in front of the shelves for later today. Otherwise, it was half empty, and, with that, she closed the old hardwood door with a snick and turned to face the living room window. The curtains were closed because of the media, but she didn’t want to let that stop her. She took the curtains off the rod, rushed to put them into the washing machine. There were enough drapes to do one load. Then she grabbed her glass cleaner and scrubbed the windows. She had done the same upstairs but had forgotten to take down the curtains. She’d do that in a minute.

  But, with the living room window cleaned and drape-free, cameras flashed like crazy. She went upstairs and took down all the curtains up there. She made a pile in front of the laundry room so she could put that load on as soon as the first load was done. Then she went to work sorting the coats, moving them to the kitchen table to avoid doing it in front of the bare window.

  Before starting, she made herself a big sandwich. She was generous with the ham and cheese for herself and for the critters. Thaddeus thoroughly enjoyed a cherry tomato and some lettuce. She didn’t mind that they were eating a lot. She had to keep their energy up, just in case she got int
o trouble and needed them again.

  Chapter 5

  Thursday Noon …

  As soon as Doreen finished lunch, she decided to finish scrubbing the living room. So, rather than sorting coats, she returned to the living room, wiped down all the walls, removed everything off the mantel, then finished with a vacuum and a mop of the floor. Now she had everything done except for the hall half-bath, the kitchen, hall closet, and the office corner. But she’d more or less done that alcove when Scott from Christie’s had been here with Agatha, his art expert, and John, his books expert.

  She walked to the office alcove and saw nothing more to do there except the window, the walls, and the floor. Once she did that, she was down to just the kitchen, the half bath, hall closet, and the garage. It was hard to be upset with her day’s work when she’d done a ton already. On that note, she remembered the basement. Groaning, she still had all of that to sort too. But she wasn’t sure which way she wanted to go. Her energy was waning.

  She walked to the stairs, turned the light on, and headed down to the basement. With a critical eye, she examined what was left on the furniture side and thought about four trips would get it all up to the garage. Then she walked to the smaller area, the cold room, and frowned. Quite a bit of stuff remained on the shelves. Most of it, she didn’t think she would keep. She would need more boxes though.

  Loading up her arms, she took whatever she could find in the furniture room. Most of these pieces were missing legs. She also found leaves to a dining room table; yet she wasn’t sure she still had the table. It took her five trips, leaving a dump run pile at the big garage door, each time bringing an empty box back down with her. Then, with the furniture side done, she walked to the other side and packed up what she could. She would be a couple boxes short. She took these full boxes to the garage—more trash. Then grabbed some big garbage bags for the rest.