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“Uncle Francis?” Brooke entered the house, the rest of them following.
“He’s not in the living room.” Zoe zipped into the room they’d been in two days ago.
“Are you sure?” Lauren peered under the leather sofa – not enough room for anyone to be under there – and then all around the room.
“I’ll check the rest of the house.” Brooke strode down the hall.
“Brrt!” Annie tugged on her harness, wanting to follow their friend.
“Good idea,” Lauren said. “Safety in numbers.”
“Definitely.” Zoe nodded.
The trio followed Brooke down the hall to a bedroom.
“He’s not in here,” Zoe observed.
The double bed was neatly made with a navy coverlet in place. The furnishings included an oak dresser and closet.
“Uncle Francis?” Brooke led the way to the blue and white kitchen. “Are you in here? Uncle—” She stopped in her tracks.
“What?” Zoe skidded to a stop so she wouldn’t crash into Brooke.
“Oh.” Lauren’s heart sank.
Uncle Francis sat in a chair at the kitchen table – stabbed in his Adam’s apple. Dried blood smeared his throat.
A single plate containing the remains of a pear and a slice of cheese lay on the table before him.
Brooke rushed to his side and bent her head to his.
“I can’t hear him breathing.” She blinked furiously.
“Let me.” Zoe zipped over and checked for a pulse. “Chris showed me how.” She shook her head. “He’s cold. I’m sorry, Brooke.”
“We need to call Mitch.” Lauren pulled her phone out of her purse and speed dialed, a silver toaster on the counter catching her gaze for a second.
Annie sniffed the kitchen table legs, while Lauren spoke to her husband.
“He was just about to leave for Sacramento on another case, but he’ll be right here.” She put the phone back in her handbag, her hand shaking.
“Brrt.” Annie pulled on her harness, leading Lauren over to the refrigerator, humming in the background.
“I don’t think we should open the fridge,” Lauren told her fur baby. “We should touch as little as possible, but I’ll tell Mitch you wanted to investigate the refrigerator.”
“Brrt.” Annie sounded satisfied.
“If there’s nothing we can do for Uncle Francis, we should wait outside,” Lauren suggested. “We want to contaminate the – scene – as little as possible.”
“I understand.” A tear slid down Brooke’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Uncle Francis.” She slowly stepped away.
The three of them encouraged Brooke to leave the house, and waited on the porch for Mitch to arrive.
“What’s going on?” Brooke’s voice trembled. “First, Grandmother’s jewelry goes missing from Uncle Francis’s safe, and now he’s dead!”
“Good question.” Zoe nodded. “And I bet the three of us can discover the answer.”
“Brrt!”
***
MITCH AND UNIFORMED officers arrived in record time.
“Are you okay?” He looked at Lauren in concern.
“Yes,” she replied.
“What happened?”
She filled him in, Brooke and Zoe adding extra details, until he had a full picture.
“What about the safe?”
Zoe’s eyes widened. “We didn’t check it today. We were busy looking for Uncle ...” her voice trailed off when she glanced at Brooke’s face.
“I’ll do that now. Stay here.”
Lauren nodded.
“Wouldn’t it be weird if the jewels were back in the safe?” Zoe mused. “What if Uncle Francis got them back for you and then the thief ...” she trailed off when she saw Lauren’s slight shake of the head. “Sorry.” She touched Brooke’s arm. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“It’s okay.” Brooke smiled wanly. “I’m glad the three of you are here with me.”
“Brrt,” Annie agreed, rubbing against their friend’s leg.
Mitch returned. “The safe is locked. Do you know the combination?” He looked at Brooke.
“No.” She shook her head. “Uncle Francis made me turn around when he put the jewelry in there.”
“Do you know for sure he put the jewels in there?” Zoe questioned. “If you had your back turned, how do you know he actually put them in there?”
“Because he told me ...” Brooke’s mouth remained parted, her eyes wide. “No!”
“We don’t know anything for sure.” Mitch frowned at Zoe. “Just that your family friend is dead and your jewelry is missing.”
“What about the refrigerator?” Lauren asked. “Did you check it?”
“The only thing I found in there that was interesting was a ham, and a wedge of cheese that looked similar to the portion that was on the kitchen table.”
“Brrt!” Annie looked up at him in an encouraging way.
“Maybe the killer helped themselves to some cheese?” Lauren pondered. “Or maybe they cut it and shared the meal with Uncle Francis before they killed him?”
“When was that?” Zoe pressed. “Pear and cheese sounds like a posh way to end a meal.”
“It looks like he could have been killed last night,” Mitch replied. “But I won’t know for sure until I get the ME’s report.” He turned to Brooke. “I’ll start canvassing the area. Do you know which house his neighbor, Doris, lives in?”
“That one.” She pointed to the cottage to the left of them. It was painted cream with fading green gingerbread trim, but the garden looked well-kept.
“I’ll ask her if she saw or heard anything last night – or even this morning,” Mitch said.
“I wonder if she saw us trying to look into the garage,” Zoe mused.
“If she had, she probably would have come out to see what you were doing,” Brooke commented. “I’ve always thought of her as a bit inquisitive.”
“That’s good to know.” Mitch nodded.
“What about the murder weapon?” Lauren asked. “I didn’t notice anything in the kitchen.”
“No.” He frowned. “I didn’t, either. The killer could have taken it with them and got rid of it later on. I’ll see if Doris is home.” He strode next door.
“What if you’re right, Zoe?” Brooke’s face was pale. “What if Uncle Francis tricked me and he didn’t put the jewelry into the safe, he just pretended to?”
“Why would he do that?” Lauren asked.
“Brrt.” Annie seemed to agree.
“His reaction when he discovered your jewelry was missing from his safe seemed genuine to me.”
“Lauren’s right.” Zoe nodded. “Either Uncle Francis is an amazing actor, or he did put the jewels in his safe and locked it up nice and tight, just like he said.” She paused. “The idea that he pretended to put the jewels in the safe just popped into my head.” She glanced down at the silver-gray tabby. “What if I put that in the screenplay, Annie?”
“Brrt!” Annie said in approval.
Zoe looked at Brooke. “Is that okay with you? I won’t use it if you don’t want me to.”
Brooke looked bewildered. Lauren didn’t blame her.
“What screenplay?” she asked faintly.
“I’m going to write a sequel to the princess movies. You know, the princess whose whole life is a lie apart from being a princess.”
“Oh, I think I watched one of those last year.” Brooke replied. “You’re really going to write a movie?”
“I’m going to try,” Zoe said. “Why not? I love those movies. So do Lauren and Annie. And Mrs. Snuggle.”
“I hope you succeed.” Brooke wanly smiled at her.
Mitch strode up to them, his expression hard to read.
“Mrs. Wotherspoon – Doris – said she didn’t hear or see anything last night but she did admit she was watching her favorite TV show, and when it was finished, she called her married daughter in Los Angeles and had a long chat with her. And she doesn’t like wearing her hearing aids much. Says they squawk sometimes.”
“I remember Uncle Francis complaining once that he had to speak loudly when he was with her,” Brooke offered.
“What about this morning?” Zoe asked. “Did she see us – me – looking into the garage window to check if Uncle Francis’s car was there?”
“No. She was doing her laundry and had the washing machine on earlier. She didn’t even know you were here.”
“Huh.”
“We’ll finish processing the scene here,” Mitch told them. “Are you opening the salon today, Brooke?”
She gave a start. “I’d totally forgotten. But what about Uncle Francis? Are there people I have to notify?”
“Does he have any real family?” Mitch asked. “You called him a family friend.”
“He has a sister. She’s younger than him. I think Doris has met her, since she’s been neighbors with Uncle Francis for years. I don’t have his sister’s contact details, though.” Brooke frowned. “Perhaps Mom does, or Uncle Francis probably has an address book with her number in it – or maybe on his phone. Does he have a cell phone? I only have the number for his landline.”
“He said his will was in the safe,” Zoe remembered.
“And the deeds to the house,” Lauren added.
“Brrt!”
“Good. The executor should be mentioned in the will and I can contact them – and his legal firm if he used one. But we might have to call the safe manufacturer to get the override code, or else hire a locksmith to open it.”
“Would you like us to come to the salon with you?” Lauren asked Brooke.
“We can help you set up everything,” Zoe suggested. “I could answer the phone and take appointments for you.”
“Thanks.” Brooke wiped a tear from her cheek. “But I think I’ll be okay.”
“Why don’t we walk you over there, anyway?” Zoe proposed.
Brooke hesitated. “Okay.”
Annie led the way, stopping here and there to sniff a blade of grass or an interesting scent on the sidewalk.
“Thanks for being here for me.” Brooke gave them a watery smile. “I just can’t believe what’s happened.”
“It can be hard to take in at first,” Lauren agreed, remembering her first experience when she’d discovered a murder victim.
“Cupcakes help,” Zoe told her. “We haven’t got any today, but I can bring you one tomorrow before we open.”
“Really?” Brooke sounded hopeful. “That would be great.”
They arrived at Brooke’s small salon. Two middle-aged women stood outside in the chilly breeze, muttering to each other.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Brooke’s voice wobbled.
“No need to apologize, my dear,” one of the women said, after noticing the expression on her face.
“If it’s a bad time, I can rebook my appointment,” the other lady offered.
“No, no, it will be fine.” Brooke unlocked the shop door and ushered them in.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Lauren asked.
“Yes.” Brooke nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll call Jeff when I get a minute and tell him what’s happened, and I’ll have to call Mom and tell her as well.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Lauren said doubtfully.
Brooke swiftly hugged both of them. “I am. Thank you. And you too, Annie.” She smiled down at the feline.
“Brrt.” You’re welcome.
The trio left the shop, waving goodbye to their friend, who was guiding her clients to salon chairs.
“What are we going to do now?” Zoe asked when they reached the cottage.
“What we usually do, I guess,” Lauren replied. “Grocery shopping and then visiting Mrs. Finch – although we did stop by her house yesterday.”
“I wonder if she knew Uncle Francis?” Zoe pondered. “She’s been a local for a long time – and knows a lot of people.”
“Brrt!” Yes!
Although Zoe now lived with Chris, she still shopped with Lauren on Mondays. After going to the local supermarket and saying hello to a few of their friends, they returned to the cottage.
Zoe helped Lauren unpack her paper sacks, then Lauren drove her home, Annie coming along for the ride.
“I think I really do need my own wheels,” Zoe said when they walked up the path to her slightly shabby Victorian, with fading green paint. “I’m glad you’re able to pick me up and drop me off whenever Chris is working, but it’s different now we’re not roomies.”
“I hear you.” Lauren nodded.
This time, Lauren helped her cousin put away her groceries.
“It’s a shame the pizza shop isn’t open for lunch,” Zoe mourned – then brightened. “But I’ll make us one!”
“Brrt!” Annie’s green eyes sparkled at the idea.
A while ago, Zoe had entered a local pizza making competition and had won for the most unusual ingredient. Her enthusiasm for pizza hadn’t dimmed, and now she sometimes made her own, using a ready-made base.
Zoe opened the old-fashioned refrigerator.
“Yep, there’s a base in here. Good. And plenty of cheese and pepperoni.”
“What about sauce?” Lauren asked, sitting at the vintage Formica table.
“Yes!” Zoe brandished a half empty bottle of pizza sauce. “All set.”
Lauren offered to help, but Zoe waved her away. “I’ve got this. You take a break. We can talk about the case.”
“I’m sure Mitch is on it,” Lauren said.
“But you know how we like to sleuth.” Zoe turned around, waving a flat bladed knife in the air, dripping red with sauce.
“Brrt!”
“You mean how you and Annie like to sleuth,” Lauren said wryly.
“And how many killers have we caught?”
This wasn’t the first time Zoe had asked that question.
“Fifteen!” she answered her own question triumphantly. “So, I propose that we—”
“And I propose that we let Mitch handle things,” Lauren said firmly.
“Party pooper.” Zoe made a face at her, before returning her attention to making their lunch.
After a generous helping of pepperoni and cheese, she slid the pie into the oven.
“Brrt?” Annie asked, staring at the oven door.
“It should be ready in twelve minutes,” Zoe told her.
“I don’t think pepperoni is good for her,” Lauren said. “Do you have a can of tuna or something she could have?”
“Even better.” Zoe grinned, then grabbed a small tin from the pantry. “One of Annie’s favorites.” A picture of brown lumps and a chicken decorated the can.
“Oh – thank you.” Lauren smiled at her cousin’s thoughtfulness.
“This way, I’ll always have something on hand for Annie to eat.” Zoe winked at the silver-gray tabby.
“Brrt!” Thank you! She watched Zoe pull back the ring on the top of the can, her ears pricked at the metallic sound. A faint ping at the end signaled that the lid was off.
Zoe placed a small bowl on the kitchen floor and spooned in a generous amount. Annie’s pink tongue darted out, licking the brown goop, then she started eating.
Once their pizza was ready, Zoe served it up. Lauren had to admit it did smell and look good – the golden, melted cheese, and the pepperoni that was cooked just right – not burnt or too crispy on the edges.
“Mmm.” Zoe munched away. “I think this is definitely my favorite food – along with your cupcakes.”
“Thanks.” She had to admit that she was enjoying her lunch, but too much of a good thing did lead to a little extra curviness.
She helped Zoe clear the dishes, then headed home. They agreed that if Mrs. Finch didn’t pop into the café tomorrow, they’d visit her in the early evening and tell her about today’s events.
“I can’t believe we found Uncle Francis this morning – it seems so long ago,” Zoe said as Lauren and Annie said goodbye.
“I know.” Lauren nodded. “I’ll update you tomorrow morning if Mitch has any news when he comes home tonight.”
“Brrt!”