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Fred, Tigger, and I watched Kari drive off after walking her out to her car. If Norman Rockwell were still around, he might have painted a picture of us with the old farmhouse in the background. All that was missing to complete the country bumpkin look was for us to be waving goodbye, but that might be better for YouTube, for it would certainly be fake. Fred and Tigger couldn’t wave. They both tired quickly of watching Kari drive down the long driveway and went back to the house. I needed my smartphone to make a deposit of the check Kari had gave me and realized I’d left it in my truck.
I went straight to the coffee pot when I got back to the kitchen and put a cup in the microwave for forty-five seconds. It was long enough for me to look at all the remodeling I’d done on the place despite taking a month to return home for my daughter’s high school graduation. That was when I’d decided I’d missed my little cabin and would be leaving Missouri for good once I finished Bonnie’s farmhouse. I still hadn’t told Kelly and prayed she’d be willing to follow me.
The ding of the microwave woke me from wondering how Kelly might like living in the cabin where my last wife died. I put that thought away and grabbed my coffee. I’d been up since before dawn and needed the coffee to keep me going for a few more hours. Besides depositing the check, I had a few ideas about Kari’s case I wanted to start on before sleep overcame me and I forgot them.
Fred passed on the coffee and went to his water bowl, spilling more water on the tile floor than he drank. Tigger had gone off somewhere, probably to torture a mouse. Once I sat down at the table with my coffee and got ready to take a picture of the check, I saw several missed calls. I forgot about the check and called Kelly back.
“Hi, handsome. Where’ve you been?” It felt so good to hear her voice.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.” I realized, too late, I sounded like a pathetic loser pouting about the brush-off she’d given me earlier.
“I would never do that, Jake. I know we haven’t seen much of each other since you’ve been back from your daughter’s graduation, but things have really gotten busy. I was in the car with Deputy Johnson and couldn’t talk. Bennett sent us both to Jefferson City for advanced training. We had to hurry or miss a forensics class. I tried calling you back the minute I was in my room but didn’t get an answer. I’ve tried calling several times since.”
“Sorry. I left my phone in the truck again.” I fought the urge to question her about Johnson. He was the new whiz kid from the academy. I knew he was too young for her, but I still felt a pang of jealousy.
There was a long pause, long enough to make me wonder if I’d sounded jealous. I began to wish there was a back button on phone conversations.
She finally let out a nervous titter. “By the way, how’s my boy, Freddie?”
“He misses you. He told me so only this morning. And Bonnie is still back in Denver with her sister, in case you’re wondering. We have the place to ourselves—hint, hint.”
“Jake!”
I wished I could see her face. Did she smile or frown when she answered me? “Oh, before I forget—I had a visit from a friend of yours, Kari Edwards.”
“Kari who? Oh, the wife of that poor guy who drowned last summer. Sorry, Jake, but she’s not exactly my friend. I never met her before the accident, but if I remember correctly, you’re not her type, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“And why’s that?” I tried to look hurt. I knew she couldn’t see me. Maybe my voice would say what my face couldn’t.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I love you the way you are, but what little I know about her, she likes men who can afford the finer things in life. You’d have to win the lotto before she’d consider you.” She took a short pause as if to choose her next words carefully. Fred had been imitating the RCA Victor dog and listening with his head tilted sideways. When she paused, he realized she wasn’t going to hand him any treats over the phone and went over to his bowl.
“So, tell me, Jake. What did Mrs. Edwards want?”
“She wants to hire me. You said I was smart and brilliant and good-looking, too.”
Kelly tried to suppress a laugh and failed. “I hope you don’t mind, Jake. She’s loaded. Her husband was some kind of investment broker, so when she asked if I knew someone who would dig into his accident, you were the first one I thought of. And for your information, she misquoted me—I gave her your name to help you out. She was going to hire someone and spend a lot of money to make something out of nothing. If she wants to throw money away, why not throw it your way?”
“Then you’re not buying that his ex-wife’s new husband did it?”
“No. Johnson did the follow up on Rob Croix. He was in a fishing tournament at the time of the accident. Matt Edwards died from an accident, regardless of what Mrs. Edwards says.”
“Then I’d be wasting my time interviewing the ex or her husband?”
“Probably. Let’s talk about it when I get back. Maybe I can dig up Johnson's interview notes.” She paused when I heard a knock on her door.
I could hear her open the door but couldn’t hear what she said. She must have had her hand over her cell phone. “Love you, Jake. I’ll give you a call later to see how you and Freddie are doing.”
***
I DIDN’T HAVE TIME to think about who was at Kelly’s door. I no sooner hung up when my cell rang. “Well, it’s about time you answered. I thought I’d have to call the sheriff to make sure you weren’t in an accident or something. I haven’t heard from you since you left for the auction. Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine, Bon. It was a mistake taking Fred and Tigger, especially Tigger, but those two are lost without each other lately, so I had to take her.”
“Why’s that, Jake?” She asked it in a concerned, soft-spoken tone.
“Beats me. I’m not an animal psychologist. Maybe it’s because Tigger was so young when Fred found her and she thinks Fred’s her mother.”
“Not that, silly. Why was it a mistake to take them?” Her short laugh told me she'd found something amusing. I instantly knew it was because of her friend, Jack Daniels. She usually didn’t take kindly to me not following her train of thought. Something must be bothering her if she was drinking. Margot didn’t allow it in the house.
“Oh. Well, there were so many people there, I couldn’t let them run loose. Fred would have been okay, but I didn’t want to leave Tigger alone, so they stayed cooped up in my truck most of the day.”
“How is my little kitty? Does she miss me?”
“I wouldn’t know, Bon. We don’t exactly have man-to-cat talks. Maybe you should ask Fred. He’s the only one she seems to speak to.”
“I’ll ask her myself tomorrow. That’s why I’ve been trying to get you. I need you to pick me up at the airport tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!”
“Is there a problem? I hope I’m not interrupting anything with you and Kelly.”
“No, of course not. I just thought Margot needed you. That’s all.”
Her phone’s tone changed. I knew without asking she'd switched from speakerphone. “She’s driving me crazy, Jake,” she whispered. “Do you have any idea what’s it’s like living with a hypochondriac? She can’t sneeze without having me rush her to the ER. It’s time Jon took over before they send me to Pueblo.”
Her reference to Colorado’s state mental hospital in Pueblo made me chuckle. Margot would have Mother Teresa checking in there after a few weeks. “Which airport and what time should I be there?”
“Thank you, Jake. Kansas City. I’ll text you the flight number and time once I book it.”
“Could you book a late flight? I’d like to sleep in.”
“Is Kelly there? I’d like to talk to her.”
“No, Bon. I have to do some research, so I’ll be up late. Text me the flight number when you get it. I’ve got to let Fred out.” I hung up before she could ask why Kelly wasn’t with me. There was no need to tell her about my love life, or lack of one.
***
I WOKE BEFORE NINE o’clock, despite it being a Saturday and my wanting to sleep in. Bonnie’s text was waiting for me. It came last night shortly after I'd talked to her. She must have known I’d be home alone and wouldn’t be out bar hopping. Well, not quite alone—I did have Fred and Tigger to keep me company. On the trip from the auction, I’d thought about asking Kelly over to watch a classic like Casablanca, but that was before I knew she’d gone to Jefferson City with Johnson. Watching old movies with Fred and Tigger wouldn’t be the same, so I’d gone to bed with the intention of sleeping until noon. My subconscious mind had been thinking all night and got the idea to start the investigation by looking into Rob Croix.
Bonnie’s flight wasn't scheduled to arrive until seven pm, so I had plenty of time to do some research.
***
THERE WAS NOTHING ABOUT Rob on Missouri’s Casenet, not even a traffic ticket. But that’s a site for court cases in Missouri. Maybe he was from somewhere else. I tried Facebook, Snapchat, and every social site I could think of—still nothing. I was beginning to wonder if the guy was a ghost when I finally got a hit with Google. There were no less than a dozen sites offering his name and address for a fee, so I modified my search to add the word, "free," and got another dozen sites. I finally found a listing in Warrensburg on my tenth try. The first nine "free" sites claimed to have his information for free, but it would cost me to see it. I guess they didn’t understand the definition of free.
Bonnie’s flight wouldn’t be in until much later, so I decided to drive by Rob’s place on the way to the airport.
***
I DID A DOUBLE-TAKE as I passed the county courthouse in Warrensburg and pulled off and parked. There was a statue of a dog on the lawn. Then I remembered the movie, Old Drum, and knew in an instant why the statue was there.
“Come on, Fred. I want you to meet a real Golden,” I said and let him out of the Jeep. Bonnie had insisted I bring her Jeep because my truck had only one seat, and she didn’t want to put her bags in the bed of my truck. Tigger wanted out as well, but I didn’t want to spend the afternoon chasing her down. Unlike Fred, she never came when called.
The first thing I noticed was that the dog was not a Golden like the movie had made out—he was a hound. Then I saw where the real Drum had been shot. In the movie, he'd been saved after being accused of being a sheep killer. So much for the movies. Fred, on the other hand, couldn’t read and began to started to lift his leg on the edge of the monument.
“Fred!” I yelled. It startled a couple who were walking into the courthouse. Luckily, Fred decided to wait to answer Mother Nature’s call and didn’t desecrate the monument. He sat down and looked at me like a kid who’d been caught stealing candy. The woman smiled and the couple resumed their walk toward the courthouse. I made a note to stop at the next park and started toward the truck, but not before reading the plaque on the monument: “A man’s best friend is his dog.” It made me smile, too.
***
AS IT HAPPENED, ROB’S house was across the street from a small park, so I once again let Fred out of the Jeep and sat on a park bench, watching him with one eye while checking out the house with the other. I didn’t feel bad about Tigger, because she was sound asleep in the back, cuddled up in her blanket with a litter box nearby if she should feel the need.
The house was an old Victorian with all the gingerbread trim one would expect from those beautiful ladies. Someone had gone to the trouble to restore it to its former glory, with scalloped, shingled siding on the gables and slate tile roofing. Evidently, Rob Croix wasn’t poor. All the detail work that had gone into the house spelled money, and lots of it. I did some roofing, once upon a time, and I knew the slate roof alone would cost more than I could make in a year. It made me wonder how he could afford it. I also wondered what I’d say when I went knocking on the door.
It didn’t occur to me until now that I couldn’t just walk up there and start asking questions like, “Did you rig the dock so it would kill your wife’s ex?” I wasn’t a cop or even a licensed private eye—why would he give me the time of day? Would he even be home for that matter? Warrensburg was home to a major university, and it was Saturday—maybe he was watching a football game. I realized I should have given more thought to this interrogation before coming here but went up and knocked on the door anyway.
Nobody answered, which didn’t surprise me—there were no cars parked in the driveway or on the street. I was ready to give up and leave when I noticed a boat sitting on Styrofoam blocks in the side yard. It wasn’t visible from the street, which made sense. I’m sure a neighbor would have complained if it had been visible from the street. On a hunch, I decided to take a look. I thought it odd that it wasn’t on a trailer and ready to go to the next tournament.
The boat was a fisherman’s dream. I knew from looking at them for sale on craigslist a while back that it had to have cost Rob a small fortune. It was all aluminum with a walk-through windshield and a huge, four-stroke outboard. It had one of those fancy trolling motors with GPS that could take the fisherman to his favorite spot or launch itself without any operator assistance. I also knew I had my number one suspect. I’d have to be blind not to notice the lower-end of the outboard was missing. There was no way the boat had been on the water.