Dog Days Read online

  “But that’s all part of the business.”

  Annetta pulled a notebook out of her handbag, and began to rummage for (most likely) a writing implement. “Yes. Yes, it is. For the love of Pete, where is that blasted pen. Ah, here we are. Okay. So, shall we get this show on the road?”

  Laughing I led them into the living room. “Have a seat.”

  “Tea and cookies?” Wally rubbed his hands together. “Looks like homemade. Yours?”

  “They’re hers.” Wyatt grinned. “You’ll never find store-bought cookies in this house. Mine? Yeah, I have a package or two, for emergencies. But, not here.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Y’all have any ideas about what you might want? How many people are you expecting?”

  Wyatt grabbed a glass and three cookies. “Why not just have the makings for subs? Like a waddyacallit? A conveyor belt kind o’ thing.”

  “A buffet style?”

  “A what?”

  “Buffet. You walk around a table and pick up what you want.”

  “Yeah, that. They’re no fuss, no muss, sort of. A few different varieties of meat and cheese, a veggie tray with dip. Chips. Drinks. What more could you ask for?”

  Annetta and I were nodding.

  Wally looked skeptical. “You sure that’s all you want to serve? Y’all are okay with that?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Everybody I know loves your subs. Sure, you can’t show off your fancy cooking skills, but we can save that for a different kind of special event.”

  “Okay then. Let’s settle it.” The chef grinned. “By the way, Maggie, these cookies are really good. I hear they’re a big hit at the police station, too.” He looked at his mother. “Maybe we should put them on the menu.”

  I laughed. “Like I have any spare time to make enough for that.”

  He shrugged. “Hey. Whatever works. Mom, what do you think?”

  Annetta winked at me. “I think they’d do very well. But maybe we should just let her keep these for the special folks in her life.”

  Wally bit into another one. “Can I be one of your special friends?”

  “Dude. You should try them still steaming, right out of the oven. They’re heavenly.”

  “Wyatt, I think you’re prejudiced.”

  Annetta was chewing and nodding. “He’s right. Would you share your recipe?”

  My eyes rolled. “I use the recipe on the back of the Toll House semi-sweet chocolate morsels bag.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Huh. Coulda fooled me. You sure you don’t use some magic fairy dust?”

  I laughed again.

  Twenty minutes later, a doggy bag of chocolate chip cookies in Wally’s hand, and a catering menu for the reception dinner, he and Annetta left.

  Chapter 26

  … SATURDAY…

  * * *

  … September 5th…

  * * *

  AT 10 IN the morning, the doorbell rang. Wyatt and Harley beat me to it. I watched from the living room entrance.

  “Miz Wellington. How nice to see you. Please come in. Harley, say hello.”

  “Why thank you, Chief Madison.”

  Harley gave a bark, sat, and held up a paw. Our newest head librarian bent slightly to shake it.

  Disarmed her instantly, he did.

  “Harley, I am pleased to meet you. Oh, what a precious puppy, and such a unique name for a dog.”

  He yipped again, tail bumping the floor.

  Hmm. Apparently, Wyatt had been training our canine to do some new things.

  “So, Miss Vera Mae, what brings you to this side of town?”

  “I was hoping to speak with Magdalena, if I may?”

  “Of course.” Wyatt led her inside and down the hall. “Would you like some lemonade?”

  “Oh no. Thank you, though.” Her cheeks pinked. “I won’t be here long.”

  “Please be seated.”

  Wyatt went back towards the kitchen, Harley at his heels.

  My former English teacher settled on the sofa.

  I chose the chair angled toward it. “What can I do for you, Miz Wellington?”

  Opening her purse, she rummaged a moment, and removed a small box. “These were my grandmother’s. She passed them to my mother, and she to me. I’ve had them cleaned. I was hoping…. Would you…?” She paused. “I’d love for you to wear them as a something borrowed.” Her hand trembled as she held out the velvet box.

  Inside were the most gorgeous pearl and diamond earrings. “Oh, Miz Wellington. I would be honored to wear them. Thank you, so much. You didn’t have to—”

  She waved off my protest. “I never got the chance to wear them. Too fancy for every day, and I’ve no daughter to whom I can pass them. When the time comes, Bernice, my niece will inherit.

  “But you hold a very special place in my heart, Magdalena. I thought perhaps…. I hoped, you would wear them on your wedding day. I realize it’s the second time, but—”

  “They’re perfect.” Tears welled.

  She smiled, and stood. “I’m glad. And pleased.”

  I got to my feet, and gave her a hug. “I’ll wear them proudly. Thank you, again.”

  She sniffed, and patted my back. “If I could have chosen a daughter, it would have been you.”

  “Aw, Miz Wellington. That’s so sweet.”

  She cleared her throat, and stepped back. “Now that’s enough of that. I’ll take my leave.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” I knew Wyatt would be hovering as she went out the door. “You take care, now.”

  She looked back over her shoulder, and waved before getting into her car, and backing out of the drive.

  Wyatt came up behind, and wrapped his arms around me. “That was awfully nice.”

  “It most certainly was.” I turned to kiss him … French kiss ’im. “I need to put these in a safe place. Then you can show me what other new tricks you’ve taught our genius of a pooch.”

  He grinned, and looked at Harley. “Wanna show off for Mommy?”

  The pup gave a bark, and wagged his tail.

  Laughing, we went inside.

  Chapter 27

  … SUNDAY…

  * * *

  … September 6th…

  * * *

  WYATT’S DAD CALLED. He was in the middle of fixing the upstairs bathroom sink, and couldn’t figure out why the pipes wouldn’t go back together. (Oh, I forgot to tell you. Wyatt’s parents moved back to Mossy Creek a few weeks after Wyatt got out of the hospital.) Wyatt said he’d be there shortly, then proceeded to call for a backup babysitter for me.

  Well, that’s how it feels.

  “Rick says he’ll be here in five. I’m going to take off.”

  “You sure I can be left alone for five minutes?”

  “No, but I don’t have a choice. I’m going to lock the front door. You lock this one after I leave. Okay?”

  “Yes. Okay. Go. Be quick. Come back even quicker.”

  He kissed me. “I will.”

  Two minutes later, I heard the front door open.

  Huh. That’s weird, I thought Wyatt locked that door.

  I turned to greet Rick, but that’s not who was standing halfway into the kitchen. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house? How did you even get in?” Fists clenched on hips.

  The disguised man grinned. “I think you know.”

  “No. I don’t. Get out. Get out of here, right now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, honey.”

  “Then prepare to get your ass whupped.”

  The man chuckled. “I look forward to seeing you try.”

  “Buster, you’ve got to the count of three, and then you’d better be gone.”

  “Get real, Beth. I’ve got a gun.”

  Dear Lord in Heaven. “Good for you. And stop calling me that ridiculous name.”

  “It is a derivative of Elizabeth, and you never minded it before.”

&nbs
p; I squinted at him. Before? Before when? Did he look familiar? No, not really. But, the description Vicki had given was working hard to make his features fit, though not succeeding. “I don’t know you. We don’t have a before. We’ve never had a before anything. And that doesn’t make it my name.”

  Grabbing the first thing within reach, I threw it. Beaned him with the rolling pin; caught him just above his right eye.

  He screamed … like a girl. (Sorry, I had to say it. He did.) High-pitched and shrill.

  Holding a hand over the dripping gash, he stomped his foot. “Yes, you do. You love me. ME. You know you do.”

  “Excuse me?” I blinked. What? “No, I don’t. I don’t even know you.”

  About that time, the back door crashed open, and Harley—teeth bared and growling—barreled in, a hair ahead of Rick, who had his sidearm drawn.

  Harley was outside? How did he get outside? Then I realized that subconsciously I’d been hearing frantic barking, like in the peripheral of my brain, for some time. As I was thinking those abstract distracting thoughts…

  … the intruder roared (guess he was a little pissed) and fled back through the kitchen, the living room, and out the front door. Harley gave chase, followed by Rick, and me bringing up the rear.

  We watched from the front porch stoop as the creep raced down the street and around a corner. We heard a truck engine growl, then tires screeching as it sped away.

  Rick turned to me. “What the hell, Maggie?”

  I stared at my young friend on a long breath, in and out.

  “Shit. Don’t pass out on me.” He grabbed hold of my arm, dragged me inside and to the sofa, and pushed.

  I sat. No other choice at that point.

  He stood over me, hands on hips, mad and worried. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. Wyatt said you’d be here in less than five minutes, and left. Next thing I know, the front door opened and closed. Thought it was you. He must have been watching the house.”

  Rick chuckled. “You clocked him a good one. I’m surprised he didn’t go down.”

  “Broke my best rolling pin on that slug.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one. Why wasn’t the front door locked?”

  “It was. Wyatt made sure before he left, and I locked the back after he went out.”

  “Then how?”

  Harley jumped onto my lap and began to lick my face. No, I don’t like it, as a general rule, but he was one of my heroes, so I let him—a little bit. “Okay, boy, that’s enough. Rick, my legs are still shaky, could you get him a treat from the cupboard?”

  “Sure … after you tell me how.”

  “How am I supposed to know? But since we’re asking how questions, how did Harley get outside?”

  Rick scrunched his mouth, and went to get the pooch—who trotted after him—a treat. “Wyatt’s not going to be happy about this.”

  “And I am? About scared my hair white.”

  “Sorry.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Guess I should call Gus. She’s on duty today.”

  Crap.

  Wyatt beat her by ten minutes, but put them to good use interrogating me.

  Never once asked if I was all right.

  I’ll take care of that later.

  He was pretty keyed up.

  We all were.

  Gus arrived looking concerned, and mad. “Are you all right?”

  Well someone has their priorities in the right order.

  I stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, sipping a glass of water. “Getting better every minute.”

  Rick jerked his thumb toward Wyatt, who sat staring grimly at me from the chair across the room. “He read her the riot act.”

  Gus funneled a glare in Wyatt’s direction. “I was told you had a great bedside manner. Guess they were wrong.”

  Wyatt opened his mouth, but Rick overrode rode him. “We already made him walk over hot coals barefoot. No sense in a repeat performance. It was pretty ugly the first time.”

  “Roger that.” She opened her notepad, and clicked a pen. “I think we’d all be more comfortable sitting, don’t you?”

  Wyatt stayed where he was. The rest of us found a seat.

  “Now. Maggie, please give me the rundown.”

  “Wyatt had an appointment this morning. He called Rick to come over, so I wouldn’t be here by myself. As Rick was five minutes away, we figured I’d be safe for that short amount of time. So, Wyatt made sure the front door was locked, and left.”

  “Apparently, you were wrong.”

  Wyatt folded his arms. “Apparently.”

  “I didn’t think anything of it when the front door opened and closed. I figured it was Rick.”

  “Does he have a key?”

  “No, but as I said, I didn’t think about that aspect of it. Not then. I was in the kitchen making lunch for when Wyatt got back. Not paying attention. I turned to greet Rick, and it … wasn’t him.”

  “Did you recognize the person?”

  My head shook. “No. He said I should, but I didn’t.”

  “He thought you should know him?”

  “Yes. He said I loved him, too. But I have no idea who he is. And he called me Beth.” I stopped. Growled. “I told him to stop calling me that. He said it was a derivative of Elizabeth. Duh. No one has ever called me Beth. Well, someone did. A very long time ago, but I can’t remember who.”

  “Did he threaten you?”

  “Well, he obviously had something in mind when he broke in. And when I told him I was going to kick his ass, he said he had a gun, but I never saw it.”

  “All right. Then what?”

  “Then I threw my rolling pin at him. His head got in the way. Broke the rolling pin, too.”

  Gus mashed her lips together. (Probably to keep from laughing. That’s what it looked like.) It took a minute before she asked her next question. “Was …? Did you injure him?”

  “Yup. Clipped him just above his right eye.”

  “And?”

  “He screamed like a girl.”

  Gus turned to Rick. “You know this, how?”

  “I heard a … high-pitched shriek. Thought Maggie was in trouble, so I busted through the back door. Saw the creep with his hand over his eye, and blood dripping from underneath.”

  Gus pointed at me. “Then what?”

  “Well, then is when the back door crashed open, and Rick and Harley rushed in.”

  At the sound of his name, Harley barked.

  “The guy roared, like a deep scream of mad, and ran through the living room and out the front door with Harley chasing him. Rick followed, and I straggled behind. We watched him race down the block and disappear around the corner. A truck started up, and then it took off.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I sat down, and Rick asked me why the front door was unlocked. I said it wasn’t because Wyatt had locked it before he left. And I’m sorry, but this is the third or fourth time I’ve had to repeat this story in the last twenty minutes. Thank you, Wyatt.”

  “Okay, but—”

  “I don’t know how he got in. There are no marks on the lock, or the door frame. It’s almost like he had a key.”

  Gus wrinkled her nose. “And you didn’t recognize this guy?”

  “No.” I saw Wyatt’s mouth open. “We’ve had this conversation before. I don’t know who he is. He’s a nut job psycho who fantasizes about me being in love with him.”

  Wyatt stood. “You must know. You have to know who he is.”

  My glare was aimed at Wyatt. “I’m getting really ticked off by people assuming things about me, and accusing me of things I can’t explain. Do you think, really and truly, that I would keep it to myself?”

  “But why you?”

  “How do I know?”

  Gus looked uncomfortable with our heated … words. “Could you describe him to me, please?”

  I took a breath, trying to remember his features, or the ones I could see. “He was in a weird disg
uise. Which, upon reflection, was counterproductive if he wanted me to recognize him. Couple inches taller than me, so five foot ten, maybe? The wig was blonde and curly. The false teeth were bucked. And thick black-framed glasses looked … ridiculous. Cartoonish. He was kinda on the thin side, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. Can you believe that, in this heat?”

  “Sounds like the guy Sybil described,” Rick commented.

  “Yup, that’s who I saw, too. He’s the one who shot me.”

  I looked at my man. “You’re right. That is how she described him.”

  “So even with a sketch artist, we wouldn’t get a true image.”

  “Right.”

  “There’s no question as to whether or not he’s been keeping a close watch on the house.”

  “No doubt about that. Not anymore.”

  “Anything else to add?”

  “Other than my belly is still queasy? No.”

  “Boss?”

  “Not from me. I wasn’t here at the time.”

  “All right, then.” She stood and pocketed her pad and pen. “I’ll go type up the report.”

  “Thanks for coming out.”

  “You’re welcome, but it’s part of my job, you know.”

  “Still….”

  She smiled. “See you at work tomorrow.”

  Rick stepped around my chair. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Chapter 28

  … MONDAY…

  * * *

  … September 7th…

  * * *

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Magdalena. What’s wrong, dear?”

  (Mental sigh.) “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Sorry, sweetie. It’s just that you call so seldom, I just assume—”

  Are you kidding me? I call every other day. “Are you doing anything Saturday morning?”

  “Saturday? No, not that I know of. Why?”

  “Would you like to go with me for my final fitting?” Her shriek of delight nearly broke my eardrum. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Oh, absolutely, darling.”

  “Okay. Good. I’m going to invite Harriet, too, and Blessing Morningstar so she can take pictures.”