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“That was pretty quick thinking back there, Bon,” I said once we were off the winding road. She was driving, and I didn’t want to distract her on the narrow, two-lane, goat-path they called a road in these parts.
“We got lucky. That poor kid looked like you threatened to bust him for smoking pot, so when I heard your cover story, I had a flash of inspiration of my own."
Bonnie might have wanted to say more but fell silent as she slowed upon entering Kimberling City. She waited until she came to a stop at a signal light. “Well, are you going to tell me what you found on the computer, or did I waste an Academy Award performance for nothing?”
I fought the urge to tell her the light had changed and waited for her to get going again before speaking. “Kari’s not going to like it. Looks like Croix’s alibi checks out. I was able to pull up his reservations, and he stayed there the week he said he did.”
She turned toward me despite the oncoming traffic. “Johnson was telling the truth?”
“The road, Bon!”
She jerked the Jeep back into our lane and acted like nothing had happened. “Maybe Croix paid the kid off to make it look like he was there.”
“Then that kid’s a better actor than either one of us.”
“Okay, Sherlock, assuming Croix didn’t kill Matt, who did?” To my relief, she kept her eyes on the road as she spoke.
“Who had a motive?”
I regretted asking the minute the words left my lips, because she turned and stared at me blankly. “Kari? But I thought you ruled her out because it would be foolish for her to open a closed case if she did it.”
“Not Kari, though she does stand to gain a fortune if Kathrine is convicted. No, I was thinking about Michelle and her husband. And please watch the road.”
She turned back to watching the road instead of me. “That’s right. I'd forgotten about her. Her husband threatened to kill Matt for ruining their marriage, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. Now all I need to do is find a way to ask them if he or Michelle killed Matt.”
Bonnie looked at me with no regard for the sharp turn coming up. “That’s easy, Jake.”
I pointed to the road, ready to grab the steering wheel before she drifted off into a ditch. “Oh?” I asked.
She stuck out her tongue before turning her attention to the road. “If you’d go to church with me more often, you’d know Michelle's a realtor. Maybe we can kill two birds with one shot and have her show us Kari’s house. You did say you wanted to check it out without Kari, didn’t you?”
“I believe that’s one stone, not one shot, and I doubt if Kari would let Matt’s mistress near the house, let alone inside it.”
“Whatever.” I half-expected her to stick her tongue out again, but she kept her eyes on the road as it had become a roller coaster.
***
BONNIE’S IDEA OF GETTING Michelle to show us Kari’s house was flawed, but not necessarily bad. I’d noticed for sale signs on several homes in the area, including the next-door neighbor, so we decided to ask Michelle to show us those. I found her number and called her before we made it to Springfield. She agreed to meet us at the house next to Kari's in two hours. In the meantime, I needed to think of a way to interrogate her about her husband without her knowing I had no intention of buying the house, or any house, for that matter. I’d also apologized to Bonnie for correcting her. Her idea of calling Michelle to show us Kari’s house was genius, but I thought I’d wait until we were off the back roads before telling her.
My phone also had a picture of the diagram I’d drawn on my whiteboard when I’d mapped out the relationship between my suspects. The picture confirmed Michelle was married to Dave Rivers, and he was Katherine Croix’s brother. Katherine had been married to Matt at one time and was still on my suspect list. Killing Matt to get full custody was a long-shot, but people have murdered for less. Maybe Michelle could shed some light on her husband’s sister. I had to put my phone away before I got a migraine thinking about how everyone seemed to be related in some way.
“I’ll bet Tigger and Fred will be happy to see us.” Bonnie saved me from a brain aneurysm when I couldn’t get the relationship diagram out of my mind.
“Think we’ll have time to stop and get them?” I asked.
“We’ll make time, Jake. I can’t meet Michelle the way I’m dressed. We must look a sight after being in the car all day.”
At least she hadn't said anything about how I must have smelled. It had crossed my mind that I probably needed a shower as well as a change of clothes.
***
FRED WAS OUT HIS DOGGIE door and sitting in the driveway before I had the chance to turn the engine off. I’d been driving since we'd left Springfield, and Bonnie had been sleeping. She woke the second we’d turned off the road and into her drive. “I wonder where Tigger is,” she said, wiping sleep from her eyes.
I pointed to one of the rockers on the porch. Tigger was curled up in a ball, pretending to be asleep. I knew she was pretending because I’d seen her follow Fred out the doggie door. Bonnie smiled and went to pet her cat. “How’s my little kitty been? Did you miss me?”
I didn’t need to ask Fred. If I’d been ten pounds lighter, he would have knocked me on the ground when he jumped up to kiss my face. I wrapped both arms around him and gave him a hug. “Anything exciting happen while we were gone?” I wasn’t expecting an answer, so it surprised me when he ran up the stairs and sat by the front door next to a medium-sized package with a curved arrow printed on it.
“Are you expecting a package from Amazon, Bon?” I asked as I went over to pick it up.
Fred barked when I approached the package.
“What’s wrong, Freddie?”
He barked louder, and got between me and the package, acting like he didn’t want me to touch it. I reached out and patted him on the head. “Is there something in there?”
He barked again, but not as loud. It was as close as he could come to saying yes. Something wasn’t right, so I took a closer look. The label had been ripped off the box, and I could see the package had been reused and re-taped. “Good boy, Freddie,” I said, rubbing both his ears before turning slowly toward Bonnie.
“Grab Tigger, Bon, and get back in the Jeep. Once you’re far enough away, Fred and I’ll join you.”
Her body stiffened and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think it’s bomb, do you? Who would want to send us a bomb?”
“I don’t know, Bon, but please do as I ask.”
***
ONCE ALL OF US WERE over a hundred yards away, far enough, I hoped, that my cell phone wouldn’t set it off, I called UPS, FedEx, and the local post office. The first two denied making any deliveries, but the post office wouldn’t know until the route carrier finished her shift. I didn’t wait and called the sheriff. While we were waiting for someone to show, I got a call from Michelle.
“Mr. Martin?” I couldn’t tell over the phone, but I thought I detected an element of surprise.
“Yes?”
“Uh, I’ve been waiting nearly an hour. Are you still interested in seeing the house?”
“I’m sorry, Michelle, something’s come up. Can we reschedule?”
There was a long pause. I imagined her counting to ten before she told me where I could put my schedule. “Ah, sure. Just give me a call when you’re ready, but next time I’ll meet you at my office in case something else comes up.”
I wanted to say tomorrow would be fine, but another call was coming in. I saw it was the sheriff’s office. “Mr. Martin?”
“Yes?” If this kept up, I’d have to borrow a trick from telemarketers and program my phone to answer for me.
“Could you describe the package on your porch?”
I repeated my earlier observations but with a little embellishment. “...but the main reason I think it may be a bomb is because there doesn’t seem to be a mailing label...oh, and my dog, too.”
“Your dog doesn’t have a mailing label?”
“No, I mean my dog must have smelled something wrong. He wouldn’t let me near it.”
“Is he trained to smell explosives.”
“Not that I know of. Not unless he’s been taking classes online when I was sleeping.”
The officer’s next words seemed cold and calculated. Evidently, she was in no mood for my weird sense of humor. “Are you aware of the consequences of calling in a prank bomb scare, Mr. Martin?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound flippant. I do that when I’m nervous. Sort of like a version of Tourette’s syndrome. I assure you this isn’t a prank. If you talk to the sheriff, I’m sure he will vouch for me and my dog.” I didn’t mention I also blabber about nothing and stutter when I get nervous.
There was a slight pause, and I thought I might have lost the cell signal. “I’ve got a call into him now, but it may be a while before he calls back. In the meantime, I suggest you clear the area until we can send a qualified bomb unit to your location.”
“Are you saying no one is coming out?”
“An officer should be there shortly to secure the area, so please don’t touch anything, Mr. Martin.” She disconnected before I had the chance to ask any more questions.
Bonnie stood next to Fred and held Tigger tightly to her chest. She'd heard everything because I had my phone in speaker mode. “They’re sending a regular officer and not the bomb squad?”
“Looks that way.” I withheld saying more because I was trying to think of who might want us dead and didn’t want to breach that subject with Bonnie. I could see she was already frightened enough to warrant wearing Depends.
She must have read my mind. “Who would want to kill us, Jake? You don’t think Rob saw through our charade, do you?”
“I don’t know, Bon. Would you hold Fred while I take a closer look?” I didn’t wait for her to answer and started toward the house.
I didn’t plan on touching it, but I couldn’t help checking it out. I’d read an online article about homemade bombs a while back when I was supposed to be writing. It didn’t take much for me to get sidetracked whenever I was on the Internet. The article had mentioned several inexpensive ways a bomb maker could trigger the device. My curiosity wouldn’t let me wait for the sheriff's deputy.
A common ignition device, according to the article, was a tripwire using clear, monofilament fishing line, something very common in the area. I’d already ruled that out, because Fred or Tigger would have set it off soon after the bomb had been activated. That left pressure switches, motion detectors, garage door openers, cell phones, and the old-fashioned clock. I’m sure there were many more ways to detonate a homemade bomb, but those were the ones I remembered. I stopped short of climbing the porch stairs and slowly looked around for motion detectors or pressure switches. Unlike the tripwire, those could be set to ignore a dog. Fred would have had to walk on two legs to set off a motion detector aimed for a human, and the sensitivity of a pressure switch could be set beyond his weight. Of course, it’s possible the switch was under the package and designed to go off when someone picked it up. I was about to climb the stairs when Bonnie came racing up the driveway.
Bonnie jumped out of the Jeep, waving my cell phone. I’d left it with her in case it was the trigger for the bomb. “Jake, the sheriff’s department just called your phone to say they got ahold of the mail carrier. She left the package earlier.”
“Really? Then why didn’t Fred want me near it?” I asked, heading for the package. I wasn’t expecting either of them to answer; the question was more for me than for them.
If it had been a motion-sensitive bomb, it would have exploded on the mail carrier. They were easy to fabricate out of old home-furnace thermostats with mercury switches that would close an electrical circuit when tilted at the right angle, and it would have exploded long before being delivered. But just in case, I went over and poked it with my toe. Nothing happened, so I bent down to get a better look. Fred barked in my ear and nearly gave me a heart attack. I’d been concentrating on the package and hadn’t noticed Bonnie let him loose. “Are you going to tell me what’s in there that you don’t want me to see?” I asked while hugging his neck.
He barked again. It wasn’t quite as loud this time, but then I’d been expecting it.
“Well, are you going to open it?” Bonnie asked.
“Don’t you think you should stand back, Bon, just in case?”
“Open it already or get out of the way so I can.”
Throwing caution to the wind, I reached down, picked up the package, and saw what looked like a small brown bone beneath it. Fred grabbed the bone before I could and ran out of my reach. He devoured it in two seconds flat, then came back looking for more. I realized it must have been a doggie treat the mail lady carried to befriend dogs. Bonnie hadn’t missed what had happened and started to breakup. Her laugh started as a giggle and within seconds turned into a belly laugh.
I waited for her to quiet down before holding the package up to my ear. It was all I could do not to shake it. Then I saw the label with several dollars’ worth of stamps. It was addressed to me. The mail-lady must have set the package upside down when she'd left it on the porch after throwing my ferocious dog a couple treats.
I cut the tape with my Swiss Army knife and peeked inside.
I turned back toward Bonnie whose mood had changed to caution. She was now wide-eyed, looking like she was ready to bolt. Fred and Tigger were standing next to her, too, looking more curious than afraid. They probably thought it was a gift package from Hickory Farms. “Boy, I feel stupid.”
“What is it, Jake?”
I pulled out a cover letter from inside and set the box down. “It’s from a fan. She sent me copies of some of my books and would like me to sign them. She even included a return mailing label.”
Bonnie flopped into the nearest rocker. “Thank God! But why on earth did you think it was a bomb?”
“I’d say it was because I’ve watched too many Die Hard movies, but this time it’s Fred’s fault. He didn’t want me near the thing. Guess he didn’t want to share his treats.”
Bonnie shook her head and reached down to pet Fred. “Are you going to let him blame it on you, Freddie?”
Fred barked and gave us his biggest smile.