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Chapter Thirty-Four

I put away my groceries without Sophie under my feet, which felt strange, then grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator to take with the bag of sandwiches to Clare. First, though, I stopped to tell Lydia that I’d return to Butterflies and Blooms after lunch.

“It’ll be good to have you back,” she said as she unlocked the front door of the garden shop. “How’d you make out over the weekend?”

“Evelyn helped me on Saturday, but I tried to wing it alone yesterday. Thank goodness, Jessica came in the nick of time.”

Lydia chuckled. “I’ve had moments like that, too. That’s when I call Kareen.”

“I didn’t want to bother either of you on the weekend, and I mistakenly thought I could manage alone. It all worked out, thank goodness.”

She went to greet our first customer while I headed across the street. I felt so lucky to have hired such an experienced garden shop manager as Lydia Perkins, especially now that I had a case to work with Alan. She would have told me that our interconnection was meant to be, and I concurred.

I heard Sophie bark as I rang the doorbell, but she settled down immediately when Clare opened the door to greet me. “I have napkins at the kitchen table, so let’s eat there.”

Agreeing, I bent down to give Sophie a hug, although she seemed more interested in the aromas emanating from the bag I carried. I stood quickly to avoid a grab-and-run, yet laughed at her antics. Clare did, too, which made me think my dog would make a good therapy animal.

As we ate, Clare told me that she’d decided against asking any of her Sisters to come stay with her in Aspen Notch. “You have to understand,” she explained, “my best friends serve in the foreign missions as I did, and they certainly can’t travel from Uganda or Nigeria or Peru just to keep me company.”

“That makes sense,” I said, thinking of her inability to come and comfort Liz and Ed when their son was dying. “I believe that changing the locks will give you peace of mind.”

She took a bite of her sandwich after pushing some lettuce back inside the roll, and it looked to me as though she reflected on something bothering her. Finally, she said, “I like having Sophie with me, and she seems comfortable here.”

I nodded, thinking. Looking down at Sophie lying between us I said, “I don’t know if she’d want to stay overnight because she’s never done that with someone other than family. Come to think of it, I did board her during our home renovations, and she adjusted with no problem. ”

“Do you think we could try it for a night? I’d be willing to pay you.”

The thought tickled my funny bone. “Usually, it’s the other way around. The owner pays to board the dog.”

She chuckled, too. “Everything about this trip is backward and upside down, so it makes perfect sense.”

I looked down at my dog. “What do you say, Sophie? Do you want a sleepover here?” Her tail thudded on the floor.

Turning to Clare, I said, “I think that’s a yes. We’ll do a test run tonight and see how it works. The only thing she’ll miss is running around the yard with Sean.”

“I can bring her over for a romp around supper time.” Her eyes pleaded with me.

“Perfect, and you can eat with Alan and me.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” she said.

“You’re not,” I assured her. “I bought a microwavable pasta dinner and store-made coleslaw. Easy-peasy.”

I could tell she liked the idea.

^^^

When I watered all of the outdoor plants around four-thirty, I saw Clare walk Sophie across the street. She had pretty good control, despite my dog’s tendency to pull. I waved as I put away the hose, yet didn’t have to rush home because Alan had finished his police duty and would entertain her.

Lydia locked the front door just after five o’clock while I took off my apron. I’d already told her about expecting Clare for supper, so she urged me to leave .

“I’ll put the extra cash in the safe, then straighten up,” she remarked. “Did I see Clare walking Sophie earlier?”

I smiled conspiratorially. “Yes, they’re keeping each other company.”

“That’s sweet. Don and I have talked about adopting a dog since he’s retired, but we still like to travel. You’re lucky your granddaughter lives next door and doesn’t mind pet sitting.”

“We’re grateful for that, and Sean is still at an age when he likes playing with Sophie. Besides, she’s a great watchdog.”

“That’s a good point.” She chuckled, then waved me off.

I focused on that thought when I retrieved our mail and crossed the front yard. I’d always felt safe with Sophie at my side.

The house was quiet, so I assumed I’d find everyone outside enjoying the sunny but breezy fall day. From the kitchen window where I stood watching as I washed my hands, I saw Alan and Clare sitting at the picnic table, each with a bottle of beer, while Sean and Sophie chased each other in their Ninja game.

I planned to sit outside with them, but first wanted to set the table and begin the cooking process for the microwavable meal. When I finished those tasks, I brought a bottle of beer out for me.

Alan welcomed me when I greeted everyone. “We were just talking about our therapy dog. Good thinking, partner.”

I gave him my happy smile. “It was Clare’s idea.”

“And who thought about calling the locksmith?” he asked.

I straightened my spine and grinned. “Okay, that was my idea. Did the guy change the front and back door locks?”

She nodded. “Yes, and he checked every window lock. I won’t have to worry about someone entering if I go out.”

“Right,” Alan agreed. “I think after supper I’ll head over to the home-supply store and buy security cameras for the front and back doors. They’ll also deter an unwanted visitor.”

“I’d like to go with you,” she replied, “and I can pay for them. I found more money today.”

“Where?” he asked.

“In Liz’s top bureau drawer, inside a little box for rings. It had a sticky note with the initials J.W.”

“J.W. has certainly been generous,” Alan noted. “I hope we find out which J.W. is rolling in money.”

Clare had a far-off look in her eyes. “I doubt it’s my dad. He took most of my parents’ savings when he left, and my mom struggled to make ends meet.” She put her lips to the bottle of beer and sipped slowly.

“Well,” I said to Alan, changing the subject, “Did you drop off Liz’s necklace today?”

He reached into his pocket and gave the bag to Clare. “I picked it up at the end of my shift because they couldn’t identify any of the partial prints. Forensics suspects it was wiped clean before someone left it on your kitchen table, so only yours remained.”

She groaned her frustration. “I shouldn’t have touched it, but I didn’t expect it to be evidence.”

As usual, Sean overheard part of the conversation. “What’s evidence?” he asked, picking up the bag. “Hey, this is cool.”

“Evidence is something that can help solve a crime by looking at fingerprints,” Alan explained. “However, if you touch the evidence, but you’re not the guilty person, the police might put you in jail anyway.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your fingerprints say you did.”

Sean placed the bag on the table and stared at the tips of his fingers. “Everybody has the same fingerprints.”

“No, they don’t,” Alan said, holding out his hand. “We all have swirls, but they’re different on each person. That’s how the police catch the bad guys.”

“Do dogs have fingerprints?”

“No, but they have nose prints.”

Sean laughed. “That’s pretty cool. Hey, Sophie. Come here.”

My eye roll coincided with Jessica’s call for Sean to go home. To my surprise, he complied without too much grousing, although he did make a close inspection of Sophie’s nose before offering her a goodnight kiss.

“Do we get kisses, too?” Clare asked.

Sean’s doe eyes opened wide before he shook his head. “I’m not allowed to kiss people.”

“How about hugs?” she pressed.

“Nope, not those either.” He looked nervous.

Alan interjected, “Clare’s teasing, buddy. Go on home for supper and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, but can I have the evidence?”

We all struggled to keep a straight face as Alan replied with a firm, “No.”

Sophie followed Sean to the gate, Clare placed the bag with the necklace in her pants pocket, and we headed inside. “That kid’s a riot,” she whispered to me.

“Yes, he is,” I agreed wholeheartedly.