Foal Play: A Mystery (22 page)

Colleen nodded, not sure where Myrtle was going with this.

“She persuaded him to do a movie on the horses and he needs the documents for the film. It was going to be a surprise for me at Christmas. Nellie told Mitch that I would have liked it,” Myrtle said. “Oh, I really put my foot in it.”

“Or shoe,” Colleen said, and chuckled despite everything.

Myrtle smiled impishly. Good, she thought. Time to tell Myrtle about her plan.

“You know, Myrtle, there is a silver lining in all of this.”

“What’s that?”

She paused to give her words added emphasis. “The trap has been set.”

“What trap?”

“Well,” she said, “if our killer sees the news, he’ll pay us a visit tonight.”

Myrtle pursed her lips, skeptical. “Why would he do that?”

“Because
my uncle
told the reporter he knows who killed Myrtle Crepe and Miss Kennedy,” Colleen said. “And
I
told them I was taking my uncle home to rest.”

Myrtle’s eyes widened with understanding.

“If all goes according to plan,” Colleen said, “tonight we’ll have company.”

“Police aren’t talking
about Mitch Connelly’s claims that he knows the identity of the Corolla Killer, but one thing’s for certain … this reporter will continue to work to get to the bottom of this. This is Doug Templeton for News Channel 4’s Eye on Corolla.”

Colleen clicked the television off. “The word is out,” she said to Myrtle and Bill, who were sitting on the sofa.

“Looks like it,” Myrtle said, crossing to the window and peeking through the curtains. “It’ll be dark soon,” she added, her nervousness apparent.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bill asked.

“I don’t see that we have much choice.”

“Rodney is staked out at the end of the drive behind the poplar grove. He’ll give us the heads-up as soon as he spots the suspect approaching.”

“Maybe we should call Special Agent Garcia.”

“I did,” he said.

“So why isn’t he here?”

“Charlie confessed to more crimes,” Colleen said. “Agent Garcia is busy questioning him.”

“Oh, please,” Myrtle said with an irritated wave. “Charles Nuckels wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“At least not on purpose,” Colleen said.

Bill shook his head. “It’s hard to believe they’re taking anything he says seriously.”

“He must be getting a lot of attention,” Colleen said. “Next he’ll confess to kidnapping the Lindbergh baby.”

Myrtle plopped back onto the sofa. Smokey crawled from underneath a chair and sprang into her lap. Colleen was actually relieved to see the Siamese jump on the usually forbidden lap of a guest. She hoped having Smokey with her would calm Myrtle’s nerves.

“I’ll take Sparky out back,” Colleen said to Bill. “If we have any trouble from that side, he’ll let us know.”

“Good idea.”

“Sparky, come,” she said.

The Border collie leapt from his bed in the corner of the room and followed Colleen to the back of the house. As soon as she opened the door, he eagerly bounded onto the porch. The canine gazed at the water then back at Colleen.

“Not tonight, fella. You’ve got to keep guard.”

Sparky flumped onto the porch. Colleen closed the door and rejoined Myrtle and Bill.

“You should probably get your disguise back on now, Mrs. Crepe,” Bill said. “We don’t know if our suspect will wait until dark to show. He certainly didn’t with Rosemary Kennedy.”

Myrtle lifted Smokey into her arms, left the room, and disappeared into the hall bathroom.

“Smokey can sit on the counter while Myrtle gets ready,” Colleen and Bill heard Myrtle say to the cat before closing the bathroom door. There were more whispered sweet-nothings from Myrtle to the cat but Colleen couldn’t make them out. Yes, it was going to take a long time to retrain Smokey.

“So now what?” she asked Bill.

“We wait.”

She leaned against the wall, shoved her hands in her pockets, then yanked them out again and cracked her knuckles. She smiled at Bill sitting on the sofa. He gave her a weak smile back. “You want anything to drink?” she asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

“No, I’m fine.”

She took a seat in the high-back chair and leaned closer to Bill. “You think Myrtle’s okay with this?”

“Not really. But we’re here with her.”

The room fell quiet. Colleen listened to the clock ticking in the kitchen and the water running in the hall bathroom as Myrtle got ready. She and Bill were finally alone and she had no idea what to say to him. How had they come to this point? She had never been at a loss for words with him before.… Well, not until she and Myrtle had deceived him. She knew Bill was uneasy with their plan. It wasn’t by the book. In fact, it was off the books. The only deputy he had informed about the situation was Rodney. Bill hated not having more backup.

Colleen wasn’t thrilled with having to leave Jimmy and her guys in the dark. She had called Jimmy earlier to tell him she needed to take the night off due to her uncle’s health but could tell by Jimmy’s reaction that he knew she was lying and that her deception hurt his feelings. He thought she didn’t trust him. But she did … with her life. She just didn’t want to put any more people in danger.

Bill’s walkie-talkie buzzed to life. “Come in, Bill, this is Rodney. Over.”

Bill grabbed his walkie-talkie and hit the
TALK
button. “Rodney, this is Bill. Everything okay? Over.”

“A car’s approaching … looks like you’ve got company.”

“Can you see the driver?”

“Hold on. They’re driving kinda slow.”

“Who is it, Rodney?” Bill asked, impatient.

“You’re not going to believe … it’s Nellie Byrd.”

Colleen sensed another person in the room and discovered Myrtle standing in the doorway with Smokey in her arms.

“Did he say Nellie?” Myrtle asked.

“You sure it’s Nellie?” Bill asked into the walkie-talkie.

“Yep. She just passed me.”

“Thanks, Rodney,” Bill said and released the button on the walkie-talkie.

“What’s Nellie doing here?” Myrtle asked, squeezing Smokey tight.

Apparently, the squeeze was too tight and the cat jumped from Myrtle’s arms and ran under the sofa.

“I guess we’re going to find out,” Colleen said. “Why don’t you stay in the living room. Let me answer the door.”

“I’ll be right with you,” Bill said to Colleen. “Just in case.”

“Don’t hurt her, Sheriff,” Myrtle said.

“I won’t. Now take a seat in the living room, Mrs. Crepe.”

Colleen observed Myrtle head toward the living room, walking not as Mitch but as herself. “Myrtle?” she said.

Myrtle turned.

“Don’t forget you’re still Mitch Connelly.”

Myrtle’s eyebrows furrowed, puzzled.

“Your walk,” Colleen said.

Myrtle paused a moment, thinking, then gave Colleen a thumbs-up and sauntered into the living room with her Mitch Connelly swagger.

A car pulled into the drive and stopped. An engine sputtered off; a door slammed; and footsteps were heard on the porch. Bill positioned himself in the corner behind the front door and signaled Colleen he was ready. They heard a light knock. Colleen waited a few seconds, then opened the door.

“Nellie? What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to appear as if all was normal.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Chief McCabe, but I couldn’t help worrying about Mitch. He was behaving so strangely today. Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. Got a little too much sun is all.”

“I made him a pie, if that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect” came Myrtle’s voice.

Colleen forced a smile and turned to find Myrtle standing in the foyer, having disobeyed Bill’s request that she remain in the living room.

“I brought you strawberry rhubarb. It’s one of my best,” Nellie said and lifted the white box in her hands.

“How thoughtful of you,” Myrtle said, strutting forward in her Mitch walk. “Colleen, why haven’t you shown Miss Byrd in?”

Colleen frowned at Myrtle, then faked a smile and motioned for Nellie to enter. Nellie stepped inside. Colleen closed the door, revealing Bill standing along the wall.

Nellie jumped. “Sheriff Dorman, you startled me.”

Colleen, Bill, and Myrtle stood silently in the foyer.

Nellie searched their faces. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not,” Bill said, serious. “Mind handing over the box?”

“Of course not,” Nellie said and held the box out to him.

Bill made eye contact with Colleen and gestured toward the kitchen. They took the box into the kitchen and left Myrtle and Nellie watching from the foyer. Colleen opened a drawer, removed a pair of cooking scissors, and cut the string around the box. Bill gingerly lifted the lid. Colleen peered inside. The contents were indeed one of Nellie’s famous strawberry rhubarb pies.

“Looks delicious,” she said.

“I made it special for Mitch,” Nellie said with a smile to Myrtle.

Bill found a knife, sliced into the pie, and raised a small piece to his nose. She watched Bill smell the piece and take a taste, puckering his lips several times. He was testing to see if Nellie had added any unusual, perhaps deadly, ingredients to the pie. Colleen crossed her fingers. Please let the pie be just that, she thought.

“That’s some tasty strawberry rhubarb pie,” he said.

Nellie beamed with pride. Colleen and Myrtle sighed with relief.

“Uncle, why don’t you and Nellie come in the kitchen and have some pie?”

“That sounds fine,” Myrtle said, adding a tad too much machismo to her voice. “After you, Miss Nellie.”

Nellie took a seat at the table as Myrtle took out plates and silverware. When Colleen was certain Nellie wasn’t paying attention to her and Bill, she motioned for him to follow her into the living room. She waited for Bill to join her and listened to Nellie and Myrtle making small talk in the kitchen before speaking.

“So,” she said in a whisper, “Nellie’s not the killer.”

“We need to get her out of here. I don’t want her in danger,” he said.

“Agreed.”

Bill’s walkie-talkie buzzed to life. “Bill, it’s Rodney. You there? Over.”

“I’m here. What’s up? Over.”

“I spotted someone approaching waterside.”

Colleen and Bill exchanged a quick look. If this was the killer, they needed to be sure Myrtle and Nellie were safe.

“Get an ID on the driver?” Bill asked.

“Got past me before I got a chance. Looks like a man, though.”

Colleen and Bill heard the sound of some type of boat approaching from the dock side of the house.

“Thanks, Rodney,” Bill said and clicked his walkie-talkie off.

“I’ll take care of Myrtle and Nellie,” she said, her heart racing.

“Keep them out of sight,” he said, removed his gun from its holster, and crept toward the back door.

“I’m glad you like the pie,” Nellie was saying as Colleen entered the kitchen.

Colleen nodded to Myrtle to indicate that someone was arriving. Just then Sparky began howling outside. Myrtle’s eyes widened.

“Mitch, is something wrong?” Nellie asked.

“Nellie, I’m going to need you and Mitch to stay right here and be quiet, okay?” Colleen said, crossing to the windows and closing the blinds.

“What’s going on?” Nellie asked.

“Please, listen to Colleen,” Myrtle said.

Nellie nervously held on to Myrtle’s hands. Colleen positioned herself in the doorway between the women and the back of the house. In the unlikely event the killer got past Bill, she was prepared to protect Myrtle and Nellie with her life. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Sparky barked loudly at the back door and then the barking ceased. Colleen’s heart raced. Had the killer hurt her dog? She felt her muscles tense at the thought. The room fell silent.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Myrtle and Nellie flinched. Colleen bent her knees, ready to spring into action. She heard the back door swing open, the sounds of a scuffle, and then a cry of pain. She leapt into the hall and found Bill yanking Little Bobby’s arms behind his back. Sparky wagged his tail on the other side of the screen door, unharmed.

“What are
you
doing here?” Bobby asked Bill.

“I could ask you the same question,” Bill said, clicking handcuffs on Bobby’s wrists and taking him by the arm.

Colleen signaled Myrtle and Nellie to remain quiet.

“I came to see Chief McCabe’s uncle,” Bobby said, wincing from the tightness of Bill’s grip.

“Why?” Colleen asked, stepping forward.

“Is this,” Bobby said, indicating the handcuffs, “because of the fight I had with him?”

“Is it?” Bill asked.

Bobby eyed Colleen and Bill but said nothing.

“Not gonna talk? Perhaps you’d like to share your interest in Chief McCabe’s uncle down at the station?” Bill said, jerking Bobby toward the front door.

“No, wait!”

Bill stopped. “Well?”

“This is going to sound crazy,” Bobby said. “I don’t even know how to say it.”

“Bobby, if you’ve done something illegal—” Colleen said.

“What? No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” she asked.

“Today, when I saw your uncle throw his shoe at me, I got this idea.… I tried to put it out of my head but I couldn’t. I kept thinking about it over and over and over.”

“You’re not making any sense,” she said, now worried Bobby might need psychiatric care.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me either. I mean, how could it?”

“How could what?” Bill asked.

“When Colleen’s uncle threw that shoe at me today it reminded me so much of when my mother used to throw her shoe at Dad when she was mad at him. That’s when I got this crazy idea.”

Colleen and Bill exchanged looks. They knew what was coming next.

“You’ll probably lock me up for saying this but, Chief McCabe, I think your uncle is my mother.”

The room fell silent. Colleen glanced at Myrtle and Nellie in the kitchen. Both were wide-eyed but for different reasons.

“I told you it was crazy,” Bobby said, his shoulders drooping. “I don’t know why I even came here. I guess I just hoped…”

Bill eased his grip on Bobby’s arm. “Let’s have a seat in the living room.”