9

Expecting another murder to be taking place, I was prepared for a fight.

Instead, I found Junior standing, his back to me, arms out wide, as if trying to encircle a large ball. He was cursing under his breath as Stewie, who was backed into the corner Junior was facing, yapped at him. In the doorway leading to the kitchen, Alexis was using one hand to hold Meredith back, another was pressed to her mouth, as they both looked on.

“What’s going on in here?” I asked, my immediate concern going to the dog. One of Timothy’s medical machines was lying on its side near Junior. It was likely the source of the crash I’d heard.

“It’s none of your business,” Junior growled, not looking my way. He eased slowly forward. “Stop barking you mutt!”

Stewie continued his yapping. Junior muttered under his breath, and then reached out to touch the agitated dog. Stewie growled and snapped at him, causing Junior to jerk back.

“I’d leave him be if I were you,” I said.

“You have no say in this,” Alexis said from across the room.

“They’re trying to take Stewie when by all rights, he should stay with me,” Meredith said. She probably could have pushed Alexis away to help the dog, but she didn’t. Chances were, she was afraid of what Junior might do if she tried.

I, on the other hand, had no qualms about stepping in when an animal was in danger. “Step away from the Pomeranian,” I said, voice hard. “Now.”

“Leave us alone,” Junior said. He made another grab for Stewie, and nearly lost a finger for his trouble.

“Is everyone okay?” Jason’s voice startled me as he and Selena appeared in the doorway behind me. “We heard shouting.”

“We’re fine!” Junior practically roared it. “Alexis, get these people out of here.”

Alexis took a step toward us, but stopped when I gave her my best glare. Meredith moved toward Junior, but Alexis held out a hand, choosing to resume her duties guarding the nurse, rather than risk my wrath.

Stewie barked twice, seemed to notice the influx of new people at the door, and then, ears pinned back, he bolted.

For an old dog, he moved pretty fast. He ducked under Junior’s lunge, and made straight for the stairs next to where Alexis and Meredith stood.

“Grab him!” Junior shouted.

Instead, Alexis squealed and leapt aside. Meredith tried to make a grab for the dog, but missed, nearly falling over as she did. Stewie whined as he vanished up the stairs, and out of sight.

“Damn it!” Junior righted himself and then kicked the downed machine. He glared at it a moment before spinning on me. “No one told you to butt in.”

“I wasn’t butting in,” I said. “I heard a crash and thought something might be wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that everyone is trying to stop me from taking my property,” Junior said, before turning to his wife. “Go find the mutt.” He pointed at Meredith when she started to move. “You. Stay.”

Meredith sucked in an angry breath. I didn’t blame her. Junior was treating her about as well as he was Stewie. If he pointed that finger at me, he was liable to lose it.

Alexis hesitated, as if unsure she should leave Junior to the rest of us, before finally chasing after Stewie. She made clicking noises with her tongue as she went.

“Does anyone care to explain what I just saw?” I asked. “Because if I even suspect you were going to harm that dog, I’m calling the cops.”

Junior snorted. “Like they’d do anything.”

“He’s trying to take Mr. Fuller’s dog,” Meredith said before I could tell him exactly what kind of trouble he’d be in if he was found to be abusing an animal. Most people didn’t realize how harsh the penalty could be. “I told him it wasn’t his place to decide what happens to him, but he won’t listen to me.”

“You aren’t anyone,” Junior said. “And this is my place. Dad’s dead. Someone has to take care of the beast.”

I took a step toward him, but refrained from slapping some sense into him. “You didn’t want the dog,” I said. “You said as much earlier today.”

“I’ve had a change of heart.” The smile he gave me was condescending. “That dog is about the only thing in the place that meant anything to Dad. I’d like the memento.”

“Stewie isn’t an object,” I said.

“We’ll, uh, get out of the way,” Jason said from behind me, taking a step back with Selena. I’d completely forgotten they’d come over.

“Sorry to intrude,” Selena said.

And then the two of them scurried away, leaving me and Meredith to face off against Junior alone.

“Mr. Fuller told me that you weren’t to have him,” Meredith said to Junior. “And I don’t think you should either. He didn’t believe you would be a fit pet owner.”

I had to agree with that assessment.

“He told you that, did he?” Junior said. “Is it in his will? Or did you record him when he said it? If so, I’d love to hear it. Well? Do you?”

Meredith’s eyes narrowed and she took a threatening step forward. “Are you calling me a liar?” she asked in a low tone. “Because, if you are, I’m going to slap that smirk right off your face.”

Junior paled. “No,” he said, taking a step away from the woman who was indeed bigger than him. “But I think it would be best if the dog stayed with me until we can sort everything out. No harm in that is there?” He looked to me, expression suddenly contrite and friendly.

I wasn’t buying it.

“I don’t think he wants to go with you,” I said.

Junior’s teeth clenched, though he continued to smile. “If it turns out the best thing for the beast is for it to go with you, then I’ll turn him over, but not until we’re sure.”

I didn’t like it, but there really wasn’t much I could do. I wasn’t sure if I still had any right to take Stewie, or if Timothy’s wishes were void the moment he died.

“Stewie has an appointment with the vet today,” I said. “I could always take him to get checked out and we can go from there.” I hoped by the time Manny finished the exam, I’d find a way to keep the Pomeranian out of Junior’s hands legally.

“Cancel it,” Junior said as Alexis returned, a squirming Stewie tucked under one arm. “He’s coming with me.” His fake friendliness was gone now that his wife had control of the dog. “Alexis, let’s go.”

“I don’t think you should,” Meredith said.

But there was no stopping him. Junior took Stewie from Alexis’s grasp—earning him a nip on his hand, I noticed with some satisfaction—and they bullied their way past me, and out the door.

“Should we call the police?” Meredith asked, joining me as we watched Junior shove Stewie into a carrier he had in the back of his car. He shook his hand as if he’d gotten bitten again. Good. The man deserved it.

“I’m not sure they’d help.” At least not yet. Once I could produce proof that Stewie was supposed to be in my control, then maybe I’d involve the cops.

Junior paused getting into the driver’s seat so he could glare at us where we stood. I had a feeling he was considering whether or not to kick us out of the house, but must have decided it wouldn’t benefit him in any way. He climbed all the way into the car, started the engine, and a moment later, they were gone.

“I don’t know what to do,” Meredith said, walking over to Timothy’s fallen machine and righting it. “Ever since Timothy died, I’ve been out of sorts.”

“The police said you were here when it happened,” I said. “It had to have been hard on you finding him like that.”

“It was.” She started for the kitchen, paused. “I need a drink. Care for some iced tea? I made it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

We went into the kitchen and gathered around a small floating island counter. The kitchen appeared dated. I don’t think any of the appliances were made after 1980, and the wallpaper hadn’t been popular for at least fifty years.

Meredith opened the fridge, pulled out a container, and set it on the counter before grabbing two plastic cups from the cabinet. “Timothy always broke the glass ones,” she said, filling each with tea. “It got so bad, I bought him a plastic set, and that included bowls and plates. I think he broke them on purpose, just to watch me clean up the mess.”

I took one of the cups and took a sip. “It sounds like it was hard working for him,” I said.

“It was.” She leaned against the counter and held her cup in both hands. “Every morning, when I woke up, I dreaded coming here. I only live five minutes away, yet I always made it take thirty.”

“Why’d you keep doing it?”

She shrugged, took a drink. “Timothy might have been hard to work with, and he treated me like I was here for his entertainment most of the time, but I was still doing a good thing. He couldn’t take care of himself, and if I didn’t do it, I doubted anyone else would.”

“I heard Mr. Fuller was pretty difficult,” I said, thinking back to what Clarence had told me. “It seems like you weren’t the only one he treated badly.”

“That’s the truth.” She chuckled. “But it’s over now.” She seemed to realize how callous that sounded, so she added, “Not that it’s good that he died the way he did. I still can hardly believe it.”

“Did you see anything that day? Something that might make you suspect something like that might happen?”

“No,” she said, looking into her tea and swirling it around as she thought. “There was the argument out back, but you were there for that. Afterward, Mr. Fuller got into a fight with his son, just a petty spat, and he and his wife left. I got Timothy settled then, and then went to deal with the laundry. Honestly, I went just so I wouldn’t have to listen to him. The man could complain when he really wanted to. I didn’t see or hear anything, other than Stewie barking, until I came out and found them both missing.”

“Stewie was barking?” I asked, my mind immediately latching on to that. Barking like he had been to Junior just a few minutes ago?

“He does that a lot,” she said with a fond smile. “The little rascal rarely stays quiet.” The smile faded. “But now, I’m beginning to wonder if I should have paid more attention to him. If I would have come out to check on him, then . . .”

“Then you might have been killed too,” I said, not meaning to make it sound like a threat, or even a warning, but Meredith’s eyes widened and she placed a hand on the counter behind her as if to steady herself.

“I never even thought of that before now,” she said.

“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to harm Mr. Fuller?” I asked.

“Anyone and everyone, I’m sure,” Meredith said, regaining some of her composure. “As I said, he didn’t treat anyone very nicely, and that included his own flesh and blood. Why, I wouldn’t put it past Junior to have come back and finished the old man off himself.”

“Do you really think he’d kill his own father?” I asked. While I didn’t like Junior—or his wife for that matter—I found it difficult to believe he might murder his dad.

“If he thought he’d get something out of it, sure,” Meredith said. She set her tea aside and leaned toward me. “There’s a rumor that Timothy had been secreting money away for years. He didn’t have a lot in the bank, and the property isn’t worth all that much, but the hidden bundle was supposed to be rather large.”

“Really?” I asked. “Is there any truth to those rumors?”

She shrugged as she picked up the container of tea and returned it to the fridge. “I honestly couldn’t say. If Timothy was hiding money, I’ve never seen it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was. He didn’t trust banks, or anyone else for that matter. But if he did have a stash hidden around here, I wouldn’t put it past Junior to come sniffing around for it.”

I wondered if that was why he was here, and I didn’t just mean today.

I took a long drink of my tea as I thought it over.

Junior didn’t appear to get along with his dad, yet he was here in Grey Falls anyway. Maybe he was here to see Timothy off to the home, but what if he was after the old man’s money? He heard the rumor, decided he deserved the payout, but knew that if the house was sold, whoever purchased it would be in control of the cash—if they ever found it.

So, he pretends to leave after their fight, follows Timothy out to the barn, and then kills him.

But would he really kill his own father just to get at some money? Seeing how he treated everyone else, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

“I really should get going,” Meredith said. “I came here to pick up Stewie when Junior showed up. The poor dear was crated in Mr. Fuller’s room after the murder. The police told me it would be okay if I took him to watch over him while they sorted this mess out.”

“I guess Junior figured it was his right to do the same.” Though why he would, I didn’t know. I didn’t believe for one second he cared about the dog, or thought of him as a memento of his dad’s memory.

Meredith gave me a look that echoed my own thoughts. There had to be ulterior motives in play here.

I followed Meredith to the front door and outside. She locked the door, checked it twice, and then turned to me. “You need to fight for that dog,” she said. “I keep saying Mr. Fuller didn’t care for anyone, yet he loved his dog more than life itself. Don’t let Junior keep him.”

“I’ll do my best.” And I meant it. I had no intention of letting Junior walk off with an animal he clearly despised.

But it did make me wonder; why did he take him at all? It didn’t make sense, especially after this morning, when he’d told me he wanted nothing to do with the Pomeranian.

“And I’m sorry about your son,” Meredith said, fishing in her purse for her keys. “He seemed like a nice enough guy.”

“He didn’t kill Timothy,” I said, needing to say it, if not for her, then for me.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Meredith said. “When I saw him afterward, he didn’t look like someone who’d just killed a man. He looked worried, and was looking to help.”

“He would do that,” I said. Could that have been how he got blood on his shirt? If he tried to resuscitate Timothy, he would have had to touch him. It’s easy enough to imagine him getting blood on his hands while performing CPR and then wiping them on his shirt afterward.

Of course, Ben said he didn’t go into the house; the police stopped him. Perhaps he was scared to admit he’d gone in earlier and tried to help? Or maybe he blacked out and forgot all about trying to save Timothy Fuller.

I was grasping, but knew there had to be a reason for the blood on his shirt, other than Ben killing Timothy.

Meredith reached out and squeezed my arm, before heading to her car. She got inside, waved, and then drove off, leaving me the last person at the house. Even the car next door was gone, telling me Jason and Selena had finally left to meet with their friends.

My motherly instincts were screaming at me to do something more, to go back into the house and look around for anything that might help Ben, but I realized if something had once been there, the police would have already taken it.

With nothing left to do, I went to my van. It wasn’t my place to snoop around. I’d done what I could, and it wasn’t enough. I had to hope the police found enough evidence to set Ben free.

I got behind the wheel, and finally headed for home.