THE MEETING WORKED. I DIDN’T HAVE THAT CELEBRATORY drink of booze that would quite naturally have led to many more. I went home and went to bed, having made it through yet another day, one day at a time, but it had been a very close call. There’d been so much going on in my life the past week that I had very nearly slipped.
I might not have had any booze that evening, but I did have coffee—way too much coffee. When I went to bed that night, I was wide awake and still on as much of a high as Lucinda had been earlier. Somewhere in the wee hours of that mostly sleepless night, I had a brainstorm. If Dr. Roz was going to exhume Agnes Mayfield’s body, that meant that the poor woman’s grave site would have to be dug up in order to remove the coffin. Wouldn’t it be a good idea for Petey’s remains to share the sacred ground where the woman who’d raised him was also buried? Wouldn’t he be better off in the Mayfield family plot in West Seattle’s Pioneer Cemetery, rather than being rolled around the streets in a tarp-covered grocery cart?
By seven the next morning, far earlier than I was ready, the coffee machine came online in the kitchen. I started to grab a robe, but when I heard Marge’s voice coming from the other room, I went to the trouble of getting dressed before venturing out of my room. Alan was at the stove frying eggs. Marge was buttering toast.
“Over easy?” Alan asked.
“Please.”
“We want to be on our way by around eight,” he said. “The first stop is at the Ashland Springs Hotel, and that’s a long way down I-5.”
After breakfast, while Marge was cleaning up, Alan filled Athena’s crib with what would be their nightly in-and-out luggage and rolled the crib out the door on its way to P-4. Once the crib disappeared, Lucy, seeming to sense that something was up, began pacing anxiously back and forth in the kitchen.
“Come on, girl,” I told her at last, grabbing for her leash. “Let’s you and I take one last walk before you go.”
We rode all the way down to P-4, where I told Alan what was up. “I’ll bring her back here as soon as we finish.”
“Sounds good,” he told me.
Lucy and I went out. Despite Alan’s plan to the contrary, it was now after eight. Sam Shelton and Billy Bob were already up and out, and that was just as well. I didn’t much like the idea of someone seeing me walking my dog, talking to her a blue streak and crying like a baby.
“You’re going to love Texas,” I explained to her when her business was done. “You’ll have the run of five acres instead of having to be walked on sidewalks on a leash. I’m sending along some of your Frisbees, and I’ve told Alan how much you like to chase them. I need you to look out for Athena, Lucy—for Athena and Alan and Helen Gibbons, too. You got that, Lucy girl?”
She looked up at me then, thumping her long tail against my leg, probably because she had heard her name and knew I was talking to her. I hoped she understood how much I cared about her and how much I was going to miss her. Leaning down, I buried my face in the long, silky hair of her ears and used that to dry my tears.
“Let’s go, girl,” I said, straightening up. “Off you go to your new life.”
We went inside. Down on the P-4 level, Alan handed over the pocketful of keys and clickers he had used to get in and out of the garage and our condo. Before Marge climbed inside and fastened her seat belt, I gave her a hug and told her to give me a call as soon as she was ready to book her flight home.
“Don’t forget to return Mrs. Bailey’s rocking chair,” she admonished me.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said. “I won’t forget.”
I went around to the far side of the car and leaned in to give Athena Dale a kiss, my very first one, and for all I knew, maybe my last—a grandfather’s kiss meant to say both hello and good-bye. Only then did I turn my attention to Lucy. She was sitting proudly upright on the passenger seat as though she’d finally found her perfect place and that was where she’d always been meant to ride. I couldn’t cry about that. In fact, I laughed aloud. “You doofus,” I said.
When it came time to say good-bye to Alan Dale, we hugged. “Thank you,” he whispered in my ear. “Thank you for everything.”
“And thank you,” I said, “for giving me the rest of my family.”
I followed them up to P-1 and watched as they drove out of the entrance and turned right onto Clay. I’m glad I didn’t run into anyone either on P-1 or in the elevator, because it turns out that once again I was mopping away tears.
Back upstairs in a unit that was suddenly far too quiet and far too empty, I made another cup of coffee and called Dr. Roz. “Do you have the court order on Agnes Mayfield’s exhumation?” I asked.
“It’s a formality at this point,” she said. “Getting one won’t be a problem. Why?”
“Do you know when you’ll do the autopsy?”
“As soon as possible, I would imagine. Today if we can get it to work, or tomorrow at the latest.”
“Her grandson’s remains have been cremated,” I told her. “I’m wondering if his urn could go into the grave with her when you rebury Agnes’s coffin.”
“It’s no skin off my nose,” Dr. Roz said. “I suppose you’ll need to speak to the next of kin about that. I’ve notified the daughter about the exhumation, and I can tell you she’s none too happy about it.”
“In this case I don’t think it’s any of Lenora Harrison’s business. I’m going to check with Petey’s girlfriend and the mother of his child.”
I left Belltown Terrace and drove straight to Pioneer Square. At the Pike Street Mission, Rachel Seymour’s office door was closed with a Do Not Disturb sign firmly in place on the outside. One of Rachel’s assistants came to ask what I needed. When I told her I was looking for Naomi Dale, the assistant directed me to wait in the chapel while she went to fetch Naomi.
“Are they gone?” Naomi asked first thing when she appeared in the chapel a few minutes later.
I nodded. “They headed out a little over an hour ago. Lucy went with them.”
“Your dog?”
“I thought she was my dog,” I said, “and she was, right up until she met Athena, but then something magic happened and Lucy transformed herself into Athena’s dog. I believe it was love at first sight.”
Naomi put her hand over her mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’m here about something else. I was just speaking to the King County medical examiner. It turns out Agnes Mayfield might have been murdered. They’ll be exhuming her remains to perform an autopsy. I’ve had a call from the funeral home. Petey’s urn is ready to be picked up. I know you’re not interested in having any kind of a funeral service, but when Agnes’s remains are reburied, would you like Petey’s urn to be placed in the same grave?”
“I’d like that,” Naomi Dale said after a brief pause. “I’d like that a lot, and I think Petey would, too.”
While I was waiting in the chapel, I’d found a scrap of paper and written Kelly’s contact information on it. “Here,” I said, placing it in her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“My daughter’s info,” I said. “If you’re interested in speaking to Kelly, you’re welcome to give her a call.”
“So you told her?” she asked.
“I told both Kelly and my son.”
“I take it Scotty’s not eager to be in touch?”
“Not so much,” I admitted.
“Okay,” she said pocketing the paper. “Thanks.”
I went outside into bright, early-spring sunshine. There was a BofA branch on the corner, so I stopped in long enough to get an envelope of cash to leave with Bob for Sam to collect his reward piecemeal and as needed. Then, not wanting to return to the empty condo, I made instead for West Seattle. I had told Hilda Tanner that I would keep her in the loop. Considering how much of a help she’d been, I figured I owed her. Not surprisingly, I found her outside taking a walk, clumping along after her walker.
“Where’s your dog?” she asked when I stopped the car alongside her and got out.
“Lucy’s on her way to Texas with her new owners,” I answered.
“You just gave her away?”
“My wife and I were temporarily fostering her,” I explained. “Now she’s headed to her forever home, with Alan Dale and Athena. The dog really loves that kid.”
Hilda gave me a disparaging look and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “I could never give away a single one of my kitties.”
She invited me into the house. We went inside, where I told her what had happened and what was still happening, including the possibility that her friend’s body was being exhumed to determine whether Agnes Mayfield was the victim of a homicide. She shed a tear over that.
“At least now her friends will know where she is,” Hilda said. “We can go there and pay our respects.”
I explained how her help had led to Petey’s remains and how finding those had led to his alleged killer, Suzanne Nishikawa, who was now under arrest on suspicion of homicide.
“The woman from Highline Development?” Hilda asked.
“One and the same.”
“And was Lenora in on all this? Was she responsible for both Petey’s death and Agnes’s?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” I told her. “The investigation is ongoing.”
“I see,” she said.
“There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” I said. “I gave the booties to Naomi. She wanted me to tell you thank you.”
“She’s most welcome,” Hilda said. “I hope she and Athena get a lot of use out of them.”
I didn’t disabuse her of that notion. There was no need.