Murder, She Barked

Twenty-three

I drifted over to the loveseat to wait. Was there a romance between Oma and Mr. Luciano? He was far too young for her! Why was she having so many meetings with him?

Trixie whined at me.

“I’ll take off the leash inside the inn, but you have to promise you won’t run away again.” I unlatched it, secure in the knowledge that she wore the inn collar with GPS. Trixie jumped up beside me and wedged her nose under my elbow so that my arm hugged her.

“That’s very cute. You’re a sweet girl.”

Ben barreled down the steps. “Holly! Where have you been? You keep running away from me.”

I motioned him over. “I have a problem.” I glanced up at Oma’s office door. I needed to speak to her about what was going on. But it might not hurt to hash it out with someone I could trust, like Ben.

“Take a little walk with me.” I debated whether to hook Trixie up to her leash. She probably needed some exercise. “Can I trust you?” I asked.

She wagged her tail, her ears perked, and her eyes looked hopeful.

We headed for the lake, Ben taking my hand as we walked down broad stone steps lined with giant pots of orange and gold chrysanthemums. I immediately second-guessed myself about removing Trixie’s leash. She ran just like the man in the woods had described—without her feet touching the ground. She zigged, she zagged, she flew across the lawn, chased a squirrel up a tree, and finally slowed to circle around the base of the tree with her nose to the ground.

We strolled down to the lake in silence. Sunlight caught the water in tiny stars, and a glimmer of orange kissed the sugar maples around the inn. A couple of fishing boats bobbed gently on the water, but we had the dock to ourselves. Lanterns with pine trees etched into the panels decorated posts around the dock. I rolled up my pant legs, took off my shoes, and sat down, dangling my feet in the cold water.

I patted the dock next to me, meaning that Ben should join me, but it was Trixie who arrived at my side and sniffed the water.

Ill at ease, Ben fetched a chair from the lawn. He sat down and crossed his legs. “Sorry that Casey wouldn’t put me through to you last night. I tried calling you, but my phone wouldn’t work.”

“Something about the mountains. Apparently there are a lot of dead spots and only one carrier.”

“Casey was amusing. I wanted to go up to your room, but he said, ‘You’re not planning to sleep with her in front of her grandmother, are you?’ He’s a funny guy.”

Ben uncrossed his legs, rubbed his hands together, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Look, I know you’re worried about your job. I realize that I upset you when I said you wouldn’t find work in your field. Everyone wants players, you know? Nobody wants to hire a troublemaker.”

“But I’m right!”

“You’re so stubborn. But that’s not the point.” He studied his hands. “You could move in with me. We’ll sell your house, and your car, too, since I’m on the metro line. That way you won’t have a mortgage or car payments, and you won’t have to worry about finding a job. If things go like I hope they will, I’ll be moving up at the law firm, and we won’t need a second income.”

I splashed my hands in the water and rubbed my burning forehead. In a way, it was a generous gesture. But the thought of giving up everything that was me and becoming an appendage to Ben was too depressing to contemplate. Not to mention that there wasn’t enough room at his place for my shoes, let alone anything else.

Trixie lay down beside me and rested her head on my thigh.

Besides, I was pretty sure that dogs were not permitted in his building. I fought overwhelming sadness. Normally, I considered myself a fairly reasonable person with both feet planted firmly on the ground, not prone to flights of imagination or nonsense. I’d blown off Rose’s questions about Ben as silly. Yet here I was, totally crushed by Ben’s offer. I wasn’t even sure if it was meant to be a proposal of marriage. No declaration of love, undying or otherwise. No passionate kiss, no rose, no ring. I’d been through business deals that involved more romance. He didn’t need to get down on his knee or make a big production out of it, but he left me wondering if marriage to him would be . . . empty. Could Rose have been right? Or was I just being silly?

Maybe I wasn’t seeing things clearly because of the chaos with Oma. I’d give Ben and our relationship more thought when I went home and my life resembled normalcy.

I tried to make light of it. “Where would my shoes live?”

“We’ll rig up a pulley system for boxes on the ceiling.”

His joke broke the tension.

“Thanks for offering, Ben, but I’m not that desperate yet.”

“You have to be desperate before you’ll marry me?”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not so desperate that I have to sell everything I own and give up on my life.”

“Oh.” He frowned at me. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. Well, um, the offer stands if things get rough.”

There was a marriage proposal no girl could turn down!

“Although my state of unemployment will have to be remedied, I have a bigger problem at the moment. I think someone is trying to kill Oma.”

Ben listened in horror while I explained my reasoning.

“You’re saying whoever was driving the car that was stolen from Mortie intended to kill your grandmother?”

“Whoever killed Sven probably meant to kill Oma.”

“Do you have any idea why? Is there something about your grandmother that I don’t know?”

“Probably plenty. She can be pretty hardheaded. She’s run this inn by herself for long time. She’s sure to have clashed with some people. I need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with her.”

“So this Sven guy died because he was just being a nice guy, trying to help out a couple of old ladies and a dog?”

“Looks like that might be the case. I can’t bear to think that. Maybe I’m wrong about all of it. What did Dave say this morning?”

“Not much. He asked questions about the car. Where it was located when it was stolen, that kind of thing.”

I peered at him. Something was up. Those questions should have been answered by Mortie. “Why did you really come to Wagtail?”

“Mortie sent me to straighten out this business about his car.”

“What’s to straighten out? It was stolen. Mortie and his family were with us when Sven was killed. If it was his car that hit Sven, then it’s pretty clear that someone else was driving it.”

Something flickered in his expression. “I can’t talk to you about the details. Mortie needed somebody to watch over her.”

“Her? You’re babysitting Kim?”

“It’s not like that. He’s just a concerned father.”

Really? Concerned about what? Kim was a grown woman. Were her parents so determined to hitch their daughter to Ben’s wagon that they threw them together? Or was Kim somehow involved in this mess? “Where’s your ward now?”

“She’s not a ward, Holly. She went back to her cabin to do her nails.”

I burst out laughing. “She gave you the slip!”

“Did not.”

“Honey, a woman like Kim doesn’t do her own nails, and she sure wouldn’t go back to the cabin, where she doesn’t like to be alone.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “Why would she ditch me?”

“I don’t know. Why do you have to babysit her?”

Ben picked up the chair and returned it to the lawn. “Well, come on. Where’s my car?”

Eek! “A golf cart will get you there faster.” I had to get his car cleaned immediately!

We raced up to the inn. Trixie beat us to the door and waited impatiently, dancing in circles.

Zelda fixed up Ben with a golf cart.

The minute he left, I said, “You’ve got to help me. Who can detail a car around here?”

“Tiny does a lot of odd jobs like that.” She picked up a walkie-talkie. “Tiny, could you come to reception, please?”

“He’s here?”

“He keeps the grounds in shape and does handyman work for your grandmother.”

“You’re wonderful.” Relief and hope that the car could be cleaned surged through me.

Ten minutes later, Tiny was shampooing the carpets, and I breathed easier. Now to deal with Oma.

I braced myself and marched into her office. She worked at her desk. Trixie ran around the desk to Oma and placed her forepaws on Oma’s chair.

Oma smiled at Trixie and fussed over her, telling her what a smart dog she was to come home. “Your expression tells me that you are unhappy about something, Holly.”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

She rose from her chair and focused on something outside the French doors. “What do you mean?”

I closed the door in case Zelda was listening. “I think that the person who killed Sven meant to kill you.”

She turned toward me and smiled briefly. Smiled!

Her expression became serious. “I am aware of this. It troubles me greatly, of course. Imagine anyone being so angry with me that he should wish me dead.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since the moment Ellie told me that she didn’t realize Dolce had gotten out. Someone orchestrated that horror, and it wasn’t Sven he was after.”

“I have a proposition.” I held up my hand, ready for her automatic refusal. “Please think about this. What if you and Rose went to my house to stay for a week or two? I could probably manage the inn without burning it down.”

“You would do that for me?” She seemed interested.

“Of course!” Maybe she would take me up on it. “The two of you could have a little vacation, take in the sites, visit the Smithsonian, maybe go to a play at the Kennedy Center.”

She cupped my face in her hands. “I love you, too, my little Holly.”

“Wonderful!” I gave her a big hug. I would feel better the minute she left town. “Let’s call Rose so she can start packing. Then you can show me what’s going on over the next week or two.”

She returned to her desk and slid on reading glasses. “I am not running away from this . . . this villainous individual. This is my home. We will find Sven’s killer and bring him to justice.”

“We?”