Scrambled to Death: A Sage and Dash Cozy Mystery (8 page)

Charlie Staggs was on top of the world. Things were going his way. Local businesses were getting over the shock of two men dying, the best they were able to, but more than anything his plans for growth were on track. He'd secured a new business that would be beneficial to many of the town residents. Growth was good for everybody, and the new Snip and Clip hair shop would offer haircuts and color to the men and women of Spring Valley, offering them a chance to stay local. Most went over to Sugar Hollow for the time being, but Charlie was interested in bringing more economic growth to their very own hometown.

Recently, his sister, Nancy got a dose of bad news, but he'd be there for her no matter what. He'd always looked after her, and with the sudden turmoil whirling around her he'd do the same.

When Rosemary Sage called, asking if he could set up a time to speak with her, he gladly obliged. He was familiar with both Rosie and her mother. They were both in good standing with him, offering a fine business establishment to the coalition. He was excited to share the news of the upcoming business development and hoped Rosie could offer a few ideas of her own for more opportunities to build their area. A small town square park was in already in the works, but he hoped to bring in a few more options and double Spring Valley's business reputation while offering a nice little perk and write off on taxes for the first year.

Charlie slotted Rosie in for later that afternoon, around five-thirty. He added a reminder to his calendar to check in with his sister about new research he’d found. While he was the leader of the business coalition, his actual income came from the smoke house. He offered breakfast meats to local businesses within a one-hundred-mile radius. He'd grown slowly over the years, and would have loved to gone national, but he wasn't interested in changing his steady business model and had more than enough as it was. It would mean refitting too many pieces of the puzzle to double his output, including more shipping, delivery, and hiring more people. Mid-sized worked fine for Charlie. He only needed his own piece of the pie, not everybody else’s.

Once he made his rounds and things were running smoothly, Charlie Staggs locked himself into his office and got lost on the internet. He was looking for a miracle. While he'd sent his sister off to larger towns to check with a few experts, he'd have to think bigger. New York City, Chicago, or maybe Boston were going to be his next places to read about. The rare form of cancer she was diagnosed with wasn't giving her good options. She'd taken trips, claiming she was in search of antiques, while really consulting with doctors. He knew if he could find the right specialist, she'd have a better shot at surviving.

Nobody expected the hoarseness in Nancy's voice to be related to an upper back Chordoma. The rare cancer took them both by surprise. Thankfully, she wasn't having difficulty swallowing or eating yet. The fact that they found it was a miracle in itself, but being treated by the best was the only option when it came to Charlie's sister.

She opted to keep the news to herself and her brother. She was still wrapping her mind around the fact that her body was in grave danger.

After Rosie closed up shop, fed the cat, and changed into fresh clothes, she headed over to see Charlie. Her mother was in tow, jabbering about the latest news and how Sheriff Snyder failed to impress her with his lack of action.

Before they arrived, her mother tripped and fell. She slammed to the ground. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Help me up," she said as she tried to regain her bearings. "I swear; I trip over my own two feet more than anything else these days."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Rosie brushed the dirt off of her mother's slacks.

"Ow, yeah, actually I banged my knee up pretty good that time. Do you mind if we head back home? I'd like to ice it."

Rosie offered her mother a shoulder to lean on, and together they made it back home. She helped her mother to the sofa, and then got a bag of frozen peas to place over her knee. The retching came not long after. The women turned in time to see a sick pussy cat losing his dinner.

"Oh, you too?" Rosie sighed. It was a rough day for the Sage household.

Dash mewed and took a few steps before dropping down to the floor. He was exhausted.

Libby spoke first. "He doesn't look so good."

"Yeah, what could he have eaten? I fed him his usual, but I didn't notice anything in his food that didn't belong there." She leaned down to take a closer look. "Oh, I see now."

"What is it?" Libby asked.

"Let me get stuff to clean this up," Rosie said, only stopping to pet Dash first. "Are you okay, old boy?"

Dash looked at her and said nothing.

"I'm going to run him over to Jeff and see if there's anything I need to do for him. Seems our mouser caught and ate a mouse," she said, trying not to gag. Only, he looked worse for the wear than she expected.

"Ugh, Dash! We spent all that money to buy you good food, and you go for the mouse?" Libby said as she pressed the frozen peas to her knee.

After cleaning up the mess, Rosie made sure her mother was all set with the ice, a fresh drink and a snack, and then scooped up the cat. "Come on, buddy. Let's go see the doctor."

She heard the retching again and quickly put the cat down. Dash got sick once more, before they could even leave the house.

"Dash, what's gotten into you?"  She went to clean up the mess again, then scooped him up. Rosie helped him into his cat carrier and headed out to her car. She knew Jeff would squeeze her in if need be. She'd text him to let him know she was coming over.

She didn't want to tell her mother she'd found blood when cleaning up. Rosie closed her eyes, gripped the steering wheel, and started the car. "What have you been into, Dash?"

Dash sat quietly in his carrier, not answering. Normally, he liked to talk with her, meow in response when he heard his name. He wasn't feeling talkative today.

Rosie drove to Sugar Hollow and parked in the side parking lot beside the vet's office. She slipped out of her car, walked around to the other side and picked up the cat carrier. Once inside, she leaned against the counter to speak with the receptionist. "I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping Dr. Tucker could fit me in. My cat threw up blood and seems off. He got sick twice in a row."

"It may be a bit of a wait, but I'll let him know you're here. He always accepts walk-ins."

"Thanks, tell him it's Dash and Rosemary Sage," she said, not recognizing the girl at the desk. He must have gotten someone to fill in. His usual receptionist was out on baby-leave. Marietta Jonas welcomed her first child into the world not more than two weeks ago.

When it was her turn to be called back, Rosie picked up the carrier and walked into the back room.

"Hey Rosie, what brings you here," he asked.

"Dash is sick," she started. "He seemed to have gotten hold of a mouse and then regurgitated him, but what concerned me was the blood. He then got sick a second time, not more than a few minutes later."

"Was it a lot of blood, a little, and was it bright red or dark blood?" Dr. Jeff Tucker asked.

"It was more than a twinge and bright," she answered.

Jeff nodded. "Most likely, a small shard of a bone cut him as it came back up. I'll take a look at him."

"Do mice have bones? I heard they didn't."

"They actually do, but with flexible ribs and no collar bone, they're able to squeeze into small spaces." Dr. Tucker opened Dash's carrier.

Dash, normally a friendly cat, sat still and didn't come out.

"Come on," Rosie coaxed. "Come out and see me."

Dash came out reluctantly. All he wanted to do was curl up in the corner of the carrier and sleep. He wasn't feeling so well.

Jeff palpitated the cat, checked him over, and told Rosie that he looked a little ill at ease, but otherwise he should be fine.

"Maybe I overreacted and came over here too fast. I'm sorry."

Jeff smiled. "I'm always glad to see you. Oh, and by the way I heard news from one of my clients earlier. Turns out there's whispering of an abusive relationship. It seems that Peyton Darling took out his anger and frustration on Nancy, but she seemed to hide it well. Not many people knew. I'm wondering what exactly happened, but any man that violates a woman and hurts her is a scoundrel in my book."

"Wow, interesting. I was heading over to talk to Charlie, but my mother tripped and I ended up heading home. That's when Dash got sick. When I see him, maybe I'll ask about it and see what he has to say. This could change things." Rosie ran her fingers through her hair and batted her eyelashes without thinking. Oh goodness, she was flirting. She tried to shut down the heated blush that rushed to her cheeks, but it was too late.

He couldn't help himself. It was the way she looked at him. It made him giddy inside, like a little boy. He was going to wait, but the words were out before he could stop them. "Do you want to get dinner sometime, like on a date?"

Rosie froze.

"He asked me on a date. A date!" Rosie’s pupils were wide. She wasn’t sure what was going on. She looked at her mother in a state of shock.

"And?" Libby didn't get it. Her daughter was obviously smitten with the guy, yet she held up this armor that restricted anybody from getting too close.

"A date, Mom. You know I don't date. One date leads to another, then next thing you know there's a commitment, marriage, babies, settling down, and all those plans of things you wanted to do one day, they're gone with no time to do them." Her heart raced faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Rosie placed her hand over her chest as if it would slow her heart to a normal pace. "Oh, and Dash will be okay. Jeff said to let him sleep it off. He took blood work just to be safe."

Rosie reached down and opened the cat carrier door. Dash crept out and slid under the sofa. Normally, he liked to be on top of the big fluffy blanket or pillow, but a crevice sounded about right for the time being.

"Poor pussy cat," Libby said. "Whenever you're ready to come out, Dash, we're here."

Dash gave the tiniest meow.

Rosie pouted. She hated when Dash got sick. It hadn't happened in a while, and each time it left her feeling vulnerable. There was nothing she could do to make him feel better. Either way, Jeff sent her home with a dose of antibiotics for the cat, in case the mouse was carrying a disease.

"So what did you say?" Libby waited for Rosie's answer.

"Oh, I heard something disturbing. It seems there was domestic abuse going on between Peyton and Nancy, but it was kept on the down low."

"Do you think she snapped?" Libby asked.

"I don’t know, but let's see what Charlie has to say about all of this." Rosie turned to head out. "Are you okay? Do you need anything before I go over?"

"I'm fine. Dash and I will keep each other company. I’m still waiting to hear how you answered Jeff," she said.

“What was I supposed to say?” It was more of a statement than a question. In other words, she wasn’t spilling the beans just yet. 

Rosie headed out the door in route to visit one Charlie Staggs. Before she got more than a few steps away, Patsy Parker waved her down.

"Rosemary, Rosemary," she called out.

Rosie turned to see Patsy close her car door. "Do you think we could hold our annual knitting party at your restaurant next month. Our usual place is already booked, and Viola insists that we have it on the original day that we planned. It won't be more than a handful of people, but I thought with...you know, maybe you'd appreciate the extra business."

"Oh, yeah, sure," she answered. She watched as Patsy walked around and opened the passenger door of her car. A bag full of odds and ends fell out. Her knitting needles rolled onto the sidewalk and waited for their retrieval.

"Let me get that for you," Rosie said, reaching to get them.

"Don't touch them" she said in a panic.

Rosie startled at the woman's reaction.

"You need to be careful with these." She used a handkerchief and picked them up, wrapping them delicately."

For knitting needles needing delicacy, Rosie was surprised how haphazardly they were loaded into the bag. "What's different about those?" She didn't realize there was so much to know about knitting needles.

"It's not actually the needles themselves, but I used a new crystal polishing gel, and it can be acidic to one's hands until they're completely cured. I should have been more careful, but threw them in my bag out of habit. You should have seen me scrubbing my hands."

"You polish knitting needles?" Rosie was surprised.

"Well, if you're a common knitter, probably not, but I take great pride in having a shiny, glass-like sheen on my needles, but it comes at a cost." She tucked the newly wrapped needles into her bag and sat it upright, this time wrapping the seat belt around the bag as if it was precious cargo.

The women arranged to make plans later for the party details. After a quick discussion, Patsy was back in her car on her way to wherever she was heading. As for Rosie, she figured if she didn't hurry up and get to Charlie, something else might get in her way.

On the way over, she noticed one of the empty buildings showcased a new sign in the window. It was being offered for lease. She wasn't sure she'd ever met the owner of that building, but it had been vacant for the last few years. Maybe she'd get a new neighboring business soon enough. It would be nice to have more growth in Spring Valley. It grew tiresome to go into the next town to get most things. And while there was a local grocery store, it didn't have the variety that the bigger markets did in Sugar Hollow. She guessed she was as much of the reason as others that Spring Valley was caught in a stall pattern. She wanted local convenience, but was willing to travel for variety.

Crossing the street, she made her way past Nancy's gift shop and then stopped at Charlie's smoke house. Maybe he knew something. Or at least she hoped. Rosie was grasping at straws and didn't have many answers at this point. Not that it was her job to solve the crimes, but clearing her name would take a huge weight off of her shoulders.

There was always a distinct scent that hovered around the smoke house. If it was good or bad, depended on which way the wind blew, and how far into the cooking process they were that day.

Rosie went to the side entrance, knowing that's where Charlie's office was. Only, glancing around, she didn't see his car. She wondered if he was still there. He usually didn't leave the office until later. Rosie pulled on the door. It was locked. Strange. It was too early to be locked. She wiped a swath of dew off of the door's window, and placed her face close to the glass.

It seemed the lights were on, but Charlie wasn't there. Rosie went to the front of the building and entered. One of the workers asked her if she needed help.

"I was looking for Mr. Staggs. Is he in?"

"You just missed him. He left for an appointment, said he’d be out of town. He said he should be back later in the day, but didn't give us a time."

"Oh, thanks. I'll find him tomorrow. I appreciate your time," she answered. Leaving the building, she noticed that Nancy's gift shop was closed too. Where exactly had Nancy and Charlie wandered off to?