Page 37 of The Body in the Backyard

But Riley was already sliding for the edge of the bed. “How did he get upstairs? We don’t have a lift chair.” She reached for a robe.

“He’s a grown man. He’ll figure it out,” Nick said, patting the mattress. “Stay here with me so I can debauch you.”

She looked up at him as she stuffed her feet into slippers. “A man with mobility issues and what is probably some kind of dementia thinks this is the bathroom. I do not want to clean that up.”

On a few colorful four-letter words, Nick vaulted out of bed, yanked on a pair of sweats, and flung the door open.

Mr. Willicott was wearing Riley’s missing pink gym shorts and a flannel pajama top.

“In there,” Nick said, pointing at the connecting bathroom. “But don’t make this a habit. Your bathroom is downstairs.”

“Not my fault the cheesesteak is fighting its way out.” Mr. Willicott tucked a magazine under his arm and marched into the bathroom.

“Oh God,” Riley groaned.

“We’re not sticking around for this.” Nick grabbed his slippers and a sweatshirt.

“Whatever’s happening downstairs can’t be worse than this,” she agreed.

They hit the stairs, and Nick was relieved to discover no new disasters or messes in the foyer. Breakfast smells wafted through the house, and the sounds of companionable conversation came from the kitchen.

Burt bounded into the foyer, his paws slapping at the marble. He gave a cheerful bark and danced in a circle at the foot of the stairs.

“Hi, handsome,” Riley greeted the dog. “Did you have a sleepover?”

Nick gave Burt a thump on the side. Orange dust puffed out of his fur and into the air. “What the?—”

The dog had orange handprints down his back. His snoot and jowls were also covered in a fine orange dust.

“We should have moved far, far away,” Nick lamented.

Burt, sensing someone was about to be in trouble, made a mad dash for the kitchen. They followed him through the swinging door.

“What did you do to my dog?” Riley demanded.

“Good morning, lovebirds! I made you heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast,” Lily announced from the stove.

“It’s just a little cheese doodle dust,” Mrs. Penny said, pulling her head out of the sink. Fred’s torso and legs stuck out of the cabinet beneath. “Me and Burt stayed up late snacking and gaming.”

“What’s the number one rule about Burt?” Riley said.

“Get out of his way when he’s excited or he might break our hips?” Lily offered.

“Avoid his tail because it leaves whiplashes?” Fred suggested.

“Don’t feed him people food,” Riley reminded them.

“Fred, what are you doing to my sink?” Nick asked.

The elderly man slid out of the cabinet. He was holding a wrench and wearing a Phish T-shirt and track pants. “Just helping out. Mrs. Penny dumped an entire box of denture cleaning tablets down the garbage disposal.”

“Why would you do that, Penny?”

“To see if the fizzing would dislodge the strip of condoms that fell down there first.”

“How…? Why…?” It didn’t really matter. These people who had invaded his home were capable of anything. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Riley retrieved a damp dish towel from the counter and hid it behind her back as she sauntered casually in Burt’s direction.