Trouble in the Tarot (23 page)

Up until now, Morty had never so much as given any of their “toys” a passing glance. Now he had Granny’s stuffed dog in his mouth and stood before me, just staring at me. I reached down and tried to take it, but he pulled back like he wanted to play tug-of-war.

“This is a first.” I looked at him oddly, tugging it back. He must actually like toys after all, but tug-of-war? “You’re not a dog, you know.”

He stepped back, made sure I was watching, and then proceeded to shred the dog to pieces with his razor sharp teeth and claws, no booties or bow ties in sight today.

I gasped a bit, startled. “Morty, that wasn’t nice. If you didn’t like the toy, you didn’t have to play with it. Granny is going to be upset with you.”

I swear it looked like he heaved a sigh before turning his nose up at me and leaving the room.

What on earth had gotten into him? I wondered.

Fiona walked into the kitchen first and yelped, hopping a good foot. “Sweet Jesus, what is that?”

“Morty’s toy.” I picked up the shredded dog and quickly hid it in a cupboard before Granny could see it. I would throw it out later when she wasn’t around.

Fiona shuddered. “I need a drink.”

“I have iced tea.”

“Perfect. And, honey, make mine a Long Island Iced Tea. It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“Uh…you do realize there isn’t actually any tea in the cocktail. It just looks like it. Not to mention it’s complicated to make. I don’t have half the ingredients it would take.”

“Whatever, honey. Just put something in it. I’m not fussy.”

“Okay.” I shrugged and searched my cupboards for anything that might work. I was a beer drinker. Finding an old bottle of vodka, I held it up, and Fiona nodded in approval. I poured a shot in her glass of iced tea and handed it to her.

Fiona proceeded to add a generous amount of sugar and lemon then took a sip. “Sweet tea with a kick. Perfect.”

I saluted her and chuckled, trying not to shudder. I’d stick with my beer.

Granny came out next. “If I didn’t have the stretch marks to prove it, I’d swear that child is not mine,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” I asked, knowing exactly what she’d
said but wanting to hear it again to reassure myself that I wasn’t the only one my mother drove crazy.

“Oh, nothing dear.” Granny was too nice. She retied her apron and said, “I was just wondering if you had the time.”

“Sure.” I smiled in sympathy. “It’s two P.M. Why?”

“I’d say it’s time for some afternoon tea.” Granny nodded, heading toward the teakettle on the stove.

“I’ve got my tea right here.” Fiona held up the half-empty glass and winked as she sat at the table.

“Figures.” Granny shook her head and put the kettle on.

“What can you tell me about Hazel, Granny?” I asked, sitting across from Fiona.

“Hazel Kissinger the Sewing Sister?” Granny eyed me curiously.

“That’s the one.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Well, she’s in her sixties. Sings in the church choir. Never been married. I heard she had a new beau named Harry.”

Fiona grunted. “I never did like men named Harry.”

“I don’t know. This guy seems really nice. Except, it’s weird. I don’t think they like each other. It turns out Hazel is left-handed, and her handwriting matches that on the threatening note that someone gave to Bernadette, warning her to stay away from Captain Walker.”

“You’re kidding!” Granny said.

“Don’t act so shocked. Anyone who isn’t blind can
see Hazel is sweet on the captain.” Fiona snorted. “Except maybe him.”

“That’s not the part I’m surprised about. I’m surprised she had the guts to write a note like that to Bernadette. She’s so quiet and reserved. She doesn’t seem the type.”

“Writing her threat in a note was probably easier than saying it in person, I imagine.”

“Do you think she killed Bernadette in a jealous rage because the captain paid more attention to her?” Fiona asked.

“The note did say we, so that’s why Bernadette thought the two of you were threatening her.”

“Why, that’s nonsense,” Granny sputtered.

“Not nonsense. Brilliance,” Mom said as she and Dad entered the kitchen. “If Hazel killed Bernadette and framed the two of you, then all three of you would be out of the picture. She would have been a shoo-in to win the bakeoff, and then the captain would have to notice her.”

“Does Detective Stone know this?” Dad asked.

“He was with me, and besides, Hazel has an alibi,” I said.

“Who?” Fiona asked.

“Her new boyfriend, Harry,” I said.

“Wait, that’s not possible. Judge Harry…I mean…” Mom’s gaze darted to Fiona’s intense one.

“What do you mean Judge Harry?” Fiona asked. “What’s his last name?” She watched my mother closely,
who flushed pink and squirmed for the first time since I could remember.

“Dingleburg, why?” I answered.

A loud crash sounded as Fiona’s glass hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces. We all jumped and stared at her. Her jaw hung open, and her face looked frozen.

“Donald, darling, call 911,” Mom yelled. “I don’t think she’s faking this time. I think she’s had a stroke.”

“Harry?” Granny sputtered, locking eyes with Fiona.

“Harry!” Fiona ground out, livid anger replacing her shock.

“Would someone please tell me who Harry is?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

“Judge Harold Phillip Dingleburg,” Fiona spat and glared at my mother. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” I asked, even more confused. My mother had said she didn’t know who Harry was, which was obviously not true. “I repeat, who on earth is Harry?”

Granny took a breath and finally said, “Harry is Fiona’s ex-husband.”

16

Two hours and several sweet teas with a kick later, Granny, Fiona, and I were still sitting around my kitchen table when the doorbell rang. My parents had already left to follow up on some things. Mitch was busy checking into a few more leads of his own. Meanwhile, the rest of us were still trying to wrap our brains around what had just happened.

“I got it,” I said to the women. I jogged to the front door and opened it without thinking. A gust of wind swirled through and then settled. I just stood there and stared. “Harry? Or should I call you Phillip?”

“My middle name is Phillip. Fiona never liked the name Harry or Dingleburg. That’s why she called me Phillip, and she kept her maiden name of Atwater.”

That’s what Granny had said. Scandalous for their era,
to which Fiona had given her the raspberries and just kept drinking. “Did you know she was in town when you came here?” I asked suspiciously.

“Yes. I followed her.”

I started to close the door.

“Wait.” He stuck his foot in the doorway. “Hear me out. I always thought Fiona liked Phillip because it was closer to Frank, and by keeping her maiden name she could still feel single. I was a fool. I made a big mistake in leaving her.” He scrubbed a hand through his distinguished gray hair, looking more frazzled than I’d ever seen him. “Can I come in please? Just give me five minutes to talk to her.”

“Answer me one thing. Are you dating Hazel?”

“No. There’s never been anyone for me other than Fiona.” The sincerity in his voice rang through loud and clear. “Five minutes. Please?”

I pushed the door open wider and stepped back. “I can let you in, but know this: I can’t make her talk to you.”

“Fair enough.”

He followed me into the kitchen, and Fiona dropped her second glass of the day.

“Oh, dear.” Granny rushed to clean up the mess.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Fiona spat.

“I’m here to explain,” he said tentatively.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” She looked away and crossed her arms stubbornly. Suddenly, her face looked alarmed. “You didn’t tell the kids about me, did you?”

His face softened. “No. I would never do that without talking to you first.”

“Wait. Then how did you know I was here?”

“I followed you.”

She gasped. “You did what? You had no right. You’re the one who left me.”

“And I’ve regretted it every day,” he said softly.

Her chin wobbled, but she clamped her jaw tight and sat up straighter. “You missed your chance. I won’t let you hurt me again.”

“Fi, don’t be like that. And if you remember, you hurt me, too.”

“Don’t call me Fi. Besides, I heard you’ve already moved on.”

“Hazel and I are just friends. We met when I first arrived, and then she was worried because she did something stupid by writing that note to Bernadette, so she came to me for advice. That’s all. And in return, she kept tabs on what you were up to for me. I couldn’t come into town because I knew you’d spot me, so I was biding my time at the inn, figuring out how to convince you to take me back. That’s when Bernadette was murdered, and you and Gertie were arrested.”

“You know my granny?” I asked, fascinated.

“We all went to high school together. I’m just glad I was here to talk to Judge Navarra on their behalf.” He leaned against the counter in the kitchen, and no one offered him a chair or anything to drink. No one dared based on the way Fiona was looking at him.

“You’re the one who convinced him to let us go
on house arrest under Sunny’s custody?” Granny asked dreamily.

He nodded. “It was the least I could do.”

“Awww, Harry, that was so sweet of you,” Granny twittered.

Fiona glared.

“Were you really with Hazel the night of the murder?” I asked.

He looked at Fiona, who raised her brow at him as though asking,
Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
He sighed. “No, I wasn’t. We both needed an alibi,” he confessed.

“Why would you need an alibi?” Fiona asked, sounding somewhat placated.

“I didn’t want anyone to think I tried to set you up to take the fall for something you didn’t do, out of spite and revenge.”

“Did you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Why would I come clean, knowing it would put me at risk now?” He stared at her with a tortured look on his face. “I talked to the judge for you.”

Her shoulders didn’t look quite so stiff now. I thought for a moment she would give in, but then she looked away as she said, “I do believe your five minutes are up.”

*    *    *

“What do you mean, he’s not here again?” Jo asked Yvonne at Animal Angels early Monday morning.

We’d arrived before opening hours because we were supposed to finally meet with Ozzie. Jo had asked me
to come along because I had information against Ozzie that might help persuade him to let them adopt the dog. I didn’t plan to blackmail him, but I figured my presence alone would be enough to make him squirm.

Cole was on his knees, trying to coax the big fawn-and-black Great Dane dog from the back of his pen with a dog biscuit and soft words.

“We were supposed to meet with a couple interested in adopting another dog from here,” Jo added.

“We’ll take him,” Cole said, not moving his gaze away from the dog. “I don’t need to talk to anyone. I want him.” And just like that, the dog settled down as though he could understand him. The dog’s gaze locked on Cole’s as well, and he crept forward inch by inch until he accepted the dog biscuit from Cole’s hand.

Jo looked at Cole, and her whole face softened.

“I’m so sorry,” Yvonne replied. “Mr. Zuckerman found another family outside of town who wants this same dog, too. In fact, they are supposed to pick him up later today.”

“Like hell.” Cole surged to his feet, and the dog didn’t even flinch. “Biff is ours.” The dog stood to his full, impressive height and let out a deep woof.

“Biff?” Yvonne asked.

“Short for Bigfoot,” Cole said firmly. “Point is, he’s named. He’s mine. End of story.”

“Has this other couple even come to see Biff?” I asked, interjecting before Sasquatch could run off into the woods with him like a caveman.

Yvonne shook her head. “I’ve never seen them
before. Unless Mr. Zuckerman brought them in after hours when I wasn’t here.”

“Can you do me a favor and give me a call just as soon as you hear from Mr. Zuckerman?” I asked. “I want to talk to him before he gives that dog away.”

“He’ll have to go through me before I let him give Biff away,” Cole stated in a fiercely determined and menacing tone. “I’m not leaving.”

“Cole.” Jo rested her hand on his arm.

He relaxed a little at her touch, and a wisp of a smile crossed his lips. The dog let out of a soft whine. “It’s okay. I promise,” Cole said to Jo while laying a hand on the dog’s massive head. “You go to work. I’ll be fine right here.” He glanced at Biff and then back at her. “He needs me.”

She pressed her lips together, blinking back tears, and then nodded. “Okay.” He was going to make a great dad, I thought, willing my own tears to dry up.

“Call me if you hear anything, Sunny,” Jo said to me.

“I will. And don’t worry, Jo. We’ll figure this out. Won’t we, Yvonne?”

Yvonne straightened with a backbone I hadn’t seen before and nodded once with a sniff. “I’m good at stalling. You just keep your cell phone charged and ready.”