Blizzard in the Bay Page 6

  Georgia took the brownies out of the oven and set them on the cooling rack. “Now that you say that, it does seem as if he has been sleeping a lot more than usual. And he never did eat his breakfast. It is still in his bowl.”

  “I’m going to get him up and see if I can get him to eat something. If I can’t, I’m going to call the vet in the morning. Rufus’s lethargy might just be due to the cold, but it is actually nice and cozy in here. It isn’t at all like him not to want to be out in the middle of things.”

  I brought Rufus out into the living area. I showed him his food bowl, but he turned away. I opened a can of tuna and tempted him with something I knew he couldn’t resist, but again he turned away and returned to the bedroom.

  Okay. Now I was officially worried.

  Chapter 8

  I was greeted by a lot of snow the next morning. It was still dark, but I knew that the guests would be up soon, looking for their breakfast, so I pulled myself out of bed. I could hear Georgia in the kitchen, hopefully making coffee. Pulling on my knee-high slippers and a warm, wraparound robe, I headed to the bedroom door with Molly trailing along behind me.

  “I guess we got all the snow they were predicting,” I said in a voice as cheery as I could muster, given the mountain of snow outside the windows.

  “It looks like we did. Four feet at least, and there is more on the way.”

  “Are we going to be able to get over to the inn?” I asked, looking out at the even deeper wall of snow that had drifted with the wind and settled against the front door of the cottage.

  “I spoke to Jeremy, who already started the fires in the fireplaces on the first floor and is working on the walkway. As I mentioned last night, the breakfast I’ve planned today is not one that takes a lot of prep time, so I think we should be fine.” Georgia glanced toward my room. “How is Rufus doing?”

  I turned and looked back toward the open door. Molly had joined Ramos, and both were happily eating breakfast, but Rufus remained curled up on his pillow. “He seemed to sleep fine. He doesn’t appear to be in any sort of pain or distress, but I am concerned about his lack of energy and the fact that he hasn’t eaten since Wednesday. I’m going to see if he eats his breakfast. If he doesn’t, I’m going to call the veterinarian.” I glanced out the window. “If the vet is even working today, that is.”

  “We have a new vet in town, Carl White. I met him when I took Ramos to get his shots a couple of weeks ago. He bought the old Carmichael place and moved his practice into the barn he converted. He lives on the property, so I assume he will be able to take patients today. If they can get to him.”

  “I’ll call Colt for a ride. He might need to get the plows on the roads, but I’m sure with his truck and gear he can get Rufus into town.” I walked over to the counter and poured a cup of coffee. “I’m going to jump in the shower and get dressed. The vet won’t open for another hour at least, so I’ll see if I can get some food down Rufus before I panic.”

  “Okay. If I can get the front door open, I’m going to brave the elements and go over to the inn. Let me know if you decide to go into town.”

  I’d hoped that Rufus would be back to his old self this morning, but when he barely even looked at his breakfast and immediately went back to bed after I’d picked him up and taken him into the other room, I knew something was definitely wrong. I found the phone number for the new vet, who asked me to call him Carl, and assured me that if I could get Rufus into town, he would be more than happy to take a look at him. I called Colt, who promised to come to pick up Rufus and me as soon as the road leading out to the inn was plowed.

  At least Rufus didn’t seem to be in pain. I was terrified that something really bad was wrong with him, but at the same time, I was grateful that he appeared to be resting comfortably.

  It was after ten by the time Colt rolled into my driveway. I bundled up against the blowing snow, transferred Rufus to his carrier, and then called to let Georgia know what I was doing. She had taken Ramos and Molly to the inn with her. All our current guests were dog lovers, so at least I didn’t have them to worry about.

  “So, what’s going on with the big guy?” Colt asked after pulling onto the highway, which had been cleared to just one car width. I wondered what would happen if someone came in the opposite direction, but Colt informed me that the road was closed except for emergency vehicles until they could get it widened. I guess this was one of those times when it was beneficial to have friends in high places.

  “He is lethargic, and he’s off his food. In fact, the last time I saw him eat was breakfast on Wednesday. When I showed him his bowl this morning, he barely even looked at it before going back to bed. I’m really worried.”

  “Not eating doesn’t sound like Rufus. But I’m sure Carl will find out what ails him and get him all fixed up. I’ve had several conversations with him since he took over as the town veterinarian, and he seems to know his stuff.”

  I turned and looked at the cat carrier on the back seat. “I hope so. When Rufus first wandered into my life, I was sure I didn’t want him to stay, but now I can’t imagine what I would do without him.”

  It took us over an hour to make a trip that on any other day would have taken twenty minutes. Carl was waiting for us in the veterinary hospital when we arrived. I explained what was going on, and he completed a cursory exam, and then suggested I leave him there so he could give him some fluids and do additional tests. He was going to put Rufus under very light anesthesia so he wouldn’t be stressed by the tests and suggested I call him in two or three hours. I didn’t want to leave the big guy behind, but there was nothing I could do about it, so when Colt suggested lunch, I decided to go with him. All the restaurants were closed because of the snow, but Colt called Velma, who owned a diner, and she invited us to her home for a bite.

  “Thank you so much for taking pity on us.” I hugged Velma hello.

  “This isn’t my first blizzard, and I’m sure it won’t be my last. Folks like Colt, who need to work despite the weather, still need to eat, so I have an open-door policy. You know I like to help out when I can. Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  “I hear Rufus is sick,” Velma said after pouring Colt and me each a cup of coffee, then putting soup on to heat. She pulled out the makings for grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup. Somehow sitting with Colt and Velma in her cozy kitchen in the middle of a storm felt just right.

  “He hasn’t eaten for two days,” I explained. “The new vet is doing some tests on him. I sure hope he is okay.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Velma patted my shoulder. “That cat is a tough one. A real survivor. Lived out in the woods during a winter storm after his owner died before you took pity on him and invited him in.”

  I smiled. “You mean before he invited himself in.”

  “Well, yes, I guess he did do that, now that you mention it.”

  Velma crossed to the stove and gave the soup a stir. “And how goes your investigation?” she asked Colt.

  “So far, it has gone slowly. I can’t imagine why all five of the men who were at the poker game wouldn’t tell me the truth, but the only explanation I have been able to come up with for the timeline provided is that someone or everyone is lying. It makes no sense at all.”

  Velma placed buttered bread on the griddle. “Why don’t you walk me through it? Maybe I can help.”

  I thought Colt might refuse because this was an open investigation, but instead, he leaned his forearms on the table, took a breath, and began to speak. Some of what he shared, I already knew, but some facts were new. It was obvious that Colt had been working on the case since the last time we spoke.

  “There were six men at the house, including Train Tyson, when he was stabbed with a large butcher knife from the kitchen. Train had mentioned to the others that he was going to go outside to smoke a cigarette, and his body was found on the back porch, so I’m assuming that someone followed him out. At least eventually. According to the stories I’ve
been told by the five surviving men, each went their own way.”

  Velma slid the sandwiches onto plates. “Go on. You say the five other men went in different directions. Where?”

  Colt answered as Velma ladled the soup into bowls. “I spoke to Tank Tyson early this morning. Tank was Train’s older brother and the owner of the house where the murder occurred. He told me that the group had been playing poker for a few hours when he heard a knock on the door. He went to find out who’d come by so late and found a man he didn’t know standing on the porch. The man claimed that his car had broken down and his phone had died, and he asked to use the phone. Tank told me that he’d showed the man into his office, where he keeps his landline, and returned to the others. That was when he suggested that they take a break because the game had been interrupted anyway. One of the players, Hank Hanover, suggested they call for pizza, and they all agreed to take a break until after the pizza arrived. Tank said he headed into the kitchen to get a beer. When he opened the refrigerator, he realized his stock was running low, so he went to the detached garage, where he keeps a second refrigerator for beverages.”

  “Wait,” Velma said. “Tank never went back into the office to check on the stranded motorist?”

  “When he initially ran through the sequence of events for me, he didn’t mention the motorist again after he left him in the office, but I asked about that very thing when we spoke again, and Tank altered his statement. Now he says that he poked his head in the office after the group broke up and found the guy was gone, so he assumed he’d made his call and left.”

  “Seems odd to leave a stranger alone in your house,” Velma said.

  “I agree, but at this point, I have no proof that anything other than what Tank told me actually occurred.”

  “Okay,” Velma said. “Go on.”

  “Tank stated that after he poked his head in the office, he continued to the kitchen and eventually headed to the garage. According to Tank, after he entered the garage, he heard a noise. He thought it might be an animal, possibly a cat, who had wandered in to escape the snow, so he took a look around. I need to point out that Tank’s garage is a large, three-car structure that is so cluttered, you can barely walk around in it, let alone park one car. In addition to all the clutter, there are stacks of inventory for the sporting goods store he owns, so if an animal had gotten inside, it wouldn’t have been easy to find.”

  “Could the noise have been made by a human?” Velma asked.

  Colt took a sip of his soup. “Tank agreed that the noise could very well have been made by a person, and as I’ve already indicated, there would have been plenty of places for that person to hide.”

  “Did Tank ever figure out what or who made the noise?” I asked as I nibbled on the corner of my sandwich.

  “He did not,” Colt answered.

  “Maybe it was the motorist, who hadn’t actually broken down after all,” I suggested.

  “Or even just a prowler who was looking for something to steal,” Velma added.

  “Perhaps. Eventually, Tank decided to give up the search, but he told me that as he passed the spot where he keeps his garbage cans, he remembered the next day was garbage pickup day, so he opened the double car garage door and began hauling the cans out into the alley.”

  “Alley?” Velma asked. “He must live in the old section of town where detached garages are built on alleys that run between the houses from the streets to the north and the streets to the south.”

  “That is where he lives,” Colt confirmed. “Anyway, according to Tank, once he hauled out the garbage cans, he closed the door, picked up an eighteen pack of beer, and returned to the house via the side door leading into the backyard. He removed the beer from the case, placed it in the refrigerator in the kitchen, grabbed some paper plates and napkins for the pizza, and returned to the den, where the poker game was on pause. According to Tank, Hank Hanover was still in the room, watching an old movie on TV while he waited for the pizza to be delivered.”

  “And what did Tank do then?” I asked, having been pulled into the much more detailed accounting than the one I’d previously heard.

  “He said there were muddy footprints on the floor that had to have been left by someone who had gone outside, although he didn’t know who, so he vacuumed them up and then settled in to watch the movie with Hank. The doorbell rang a few minutes later. Hank got up to get the pizza, and Tank went back to the kitchen for the red pepper he’d forgotten to grab when he’d gotten the plates. By the time he returned to the den, the pizza, and the other four men were there. Train hadn’t come back in, so Tank went out to tell him about the pizza. When he found Train on the back porch, he was already dead. He went back into the house, told everyone what had happened, and they called me.”

  “So someone killed Train during the break,” Velma concluded. “Tank went into the garage; what about the others?”

  “Hank Hanover claimed to have stayed in the den waiting for the pizza the entire time.”

  “And did he see or speak to anyone while he was there?” Velma asked.

  “He said that no one came in until Tank came in and noticed the mud. He claims he was alone in the den, so he has no alibi, but as you will soon see, everyone else is in pretty much the same boat.” Colt took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “Bob Brown, a friend of Tanks who knew Train, has only undergone a short interview so far, but during it, he told me that when the game broke up, he went into Tank’s office to make a call. I pulled the phone records for both the house landline and the cell phones of all six men, and there is evidence that suggests Bob called a blocked number from his own cell shortly after the group broke up. I will be asking him about that call when I have a more in-depth interview with him later today.”

  “Okay, so we know what Tank, Bob, and Hank claimed to have been doing at the time Train died, but what about the others?” Velma asked.

  “Frank Fish was also at the poker game,” Colt continued after eating a few sips of soup. “He told me that when the game broke up, he went upstairs to use the bathroom. I found that odd for several reasons, one of which being the fact that there was a bathroom downstairs, just down the hall from the den and, according to the statements of the others, no one told me they went in that direction to use it, so it would have been empty.”

  “That is odd,” I said.

  “It is also odd that Frank was in the bathroom for thirty minutes. Yes, I have had stomach upsets in my time, and I guess if he was feeling ill, that might be why he sought out the bathroom that was farther away, but it feels fishy to me. Abby’s friend, Dax Sherman, did say that he saw Frank coming downstairs when he returned to the house after being outside during the break, so it seems possible he was on the second story the entire time.”

  “Abby’s friend was outside the entire thirty minutes?” Velma asked.

  Colt nodded. “Dax told me that after the break was called, he went out to his car to get his phone. When he arrived there, he noticed he had several texts that needed his attention, so he answered them, checked his email, and then decided to take a walk. According to Dax, he walked down the street a block or two and then returned. By the time he got back to the den, the group was beginning to regather.”

  Velma looked at me. “How well do you know this man?”

  I shrugged. “Moderately well. He is an author, as I am, and he is represented by Kate, the same agent as me. We met years ago at a writers’ retreat. I can’t say that we stayed in touch with each other, but Kate knows him well, and as far as I’m concerned, if she likes him, he is most likely a good guy. Kate is a good judge of character.”

  “And how did he end up at this poker game?” Velma asked.

  “Tank was his brother’s college roommate. He stopped by to visit while he was in town and was invited to sit in on the game,” I answered.

  Velma sat back in her chair. She sipped her coffee as she appeared to be noodling on things. “So you are telling me that in addition to the victim
, there were five men in the house, and none of them admit to have seen anyone else until right at the end?”

  Colt nodded. “That is what I’m saying.”

  “And the back porch is where the brother’s body was found. Based on the statements provided by the men, could any of them have accessed that area?” she asked.

  “Tank admitted to going out to the garage. He would have had to go out into the backyard through the kitchen door, which would have put him in proximity to the porch. Initially, I felt there was no way that he could have walked right past Train and not seen him, but the porch goes around to the side of the house, so he might not have been able to see what was going on there. As for Dax, he admitted to being outdoors, which in my mind provided him with the opportunity to head around back and stab the guy. Hank said he was in the den the entire time, but Bob said he wasn’t there when he stopped in. Either man could have stepped into the kitchen while Tank was in the garage, grabbed a knife, stabbed Train, and then returned to the rooms they claim they never left.”

  “And Frank?” I asked.

  “That is trickier. If he actually was upstairs the entire time, it seems less likely he could have been the killer, although, in my opinion, he has the best motive of the five.”

  Colt went on to explain to Velma that Frank owed Train a lot of money and was being pressured to repay the debt. The three of us finished our meal, and then I called Dr. Carl, who told me that Rufus was doing fine, that he was still waiting for the results of a few tests, and that he’d like to keep him a couple more hours. I said that was fine and asked that he call me with an update. I figured that until Rufus was ready to go, I’d just hang out with Colt. I’d helped him with cases in the past and was sure he wouldn’t mind a little help today.

  We left Velma’s, and Colt and I decided to stop by Tank’s place to take another look around. Tank was home because the store was closed due to the storm and all right with having us.

  “Can I get you some coffee? Tea? A cola?” he offered.