Bone Is Where the Heart Is Page 5

  “There they are. We were getting worried about you two.” Mom got up from the table, patting her chair for me to sit.

  “Mary! Mary! I’m so glad you’re home! It was awful without you today!”

  Who was saying that? There wasn’t anyone in the kitchen I didn’t know.

  Since I wasn’t moving fast enough, Mom gently took my arm and guided me to the chair, patting it again. “We have things to talk about.”

  Why was it when parents said that, the automatic response was a sudden pit in the stomach, jangled nerves and the desire to blurt out “I didn’t do it!” before even knowing what they wanted to talk about?

  At thirty-five, I still felt that way.

  Cautiously, I took the chair, acutely aware that conversation had stopped and they were all looking at me.

  “Yeees...” I drawled out, waiting for someone to begin.

  The table burst into conversation, everyone talking at once. Phrases flew around, most of them incomprehensible word salads I couldn’t make neither heads nor tails of. I did catch a few snatches.

  Licenses. Equipment. Craft fair. Show. Lawyer. Hot vet.

  Planning my life. Of course they were.

  Sarah banged on the table. “Geez, everyone stop. Can’t you see we’re overwhelming her? Mom, you tell her. It was your idea.”

  Mom shook her head. “Oh no. I just mentioned it. You and your grandmother were the geniuses behind fleshing it out.”

  “Am I going to regret this?”

  “Possibly,” Sarah said with a cheeky grin. “But you won’t be doing all the work, so there’s that. We’re all going to help.”

  “I can help. I’m a good helper, Mary.”

  “Please stop calling me Mary.”

  “What?” Robbie asked. “Who’s calling you Mary?”

  “I don’t know but...” Everyone got that look on their face like they thought I was going to do something weird. Or pass out. “Never mind. So what am I being committed to doing that I’m going to have all this help?”

  “We,” Sarah sat back proudly, “and by we, we mean you, are going to save the animal shelter by spearheading the First Annual Amateur Dog Show in Harmony Grove.”

  “I...what?”

  Chapter Five

  While everyone gleefully planned my life, it was clear that I wouldn’t have a say until they had it fixed in their heads first.

  They were welcome to all the heavy thinking.

  Me? I was just tired. Sore. Overwhelmed.

  Winston danced around at my feet. If I was going to escape, he was my ace in the hole. I scooped him up and carted him to Sarah’s room. With a door that closed, there was peace enough for me to catch my breath.

  He bounced on the bed when I set him down, turning in small circles as I kicked off my shoes and joined him.

  “Mary! You look so unhappy!”

  Frozen, I darted my eyes around the room. Add losing my mind to all the other things I was feeling at the moment.

  “Who’s there?” I asked in a weak voice.

  “I’m here, Mary!”

  Now my hearing was going along with my sanity because I swear it sounded like it came from Winston.

  I picked him up and checked him over to see if there were any microphones on him. Hidden...I don’t know where, but my little sister was very sneaky that way. After all, she managed to convince my parents to let her move in with Robbie. She was not above putting a microphone on him.

  Nothing. Just bare naked Winston. He didn’t even have his collar on.

  “I missed you too, Mary,” the voice said.

  And yes, it came out of Winston. I was positive.

  I was positive I was losing my mind.

  “Okay,” I said patiently. I could go along with this. Maybe if I got it out of my system. “I missed you too, Winston.”

  Winston grew very still in my hands. “You can hear me, Mary?”

  “I guess I can.”

  He went from stock still to a bundle of excitement. He was talking so fast I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

  It was clear that I was hearing human words coming out of him.

  I backed up on the bed and grabbed a pillow. Not sure why I believed a pillow would actually protect me. Although...Winston was a Chihuahua. How hard would it be to ward off a demon dog attack the size of my shoe? “Let me get this straight. You’re actually talking to me?”

  “Yay! Mary!” He spun in a circle. “I can talk to you and you can talk to me!”

  Fine. Fine! I would go with this for the moment.

  “Winston,” I said patiently. “How is it I’m able to talk to you? Do you know?”

  “After the kapow. The kapow did something.”

  The kapow. Okay. “Did it to me or to you?”

  “You, I think. You fell down and didn’t move, like Mary. Then, humans showed up and you were moving again. You’re talking to me now, right, Mary?”

  “Winston.” There was something we needed to get straight. “My name isn’t Mary. It’s Naomi.”

  “Right! Mary!”

  “Naomi.”

  “Mary!”

  Ooookay.

  “Do you remember your owner’s name?”

  “Mary!”

  “But you said I’m Mary.”

  “Yes! Will I be living with you, Mary?”

  This is what a mental break felt like?

  “For the time being. Until we can find out if Mary, Violet, your owner, had any family that may want to claim you. Do you know if she had any family alive or here in town?”

  Winston scratched behind one ear. “Only Mary. I’m hungry.”

  Mary. I’m Mary, Violet was Mary and now there was an unnamed person Mary. Or not named Mary.

  “Winston, I have one more question, and then we’ll find you something to eat. Were you there when Violet was killed?”

  “Yes! Mary was there. She was very mad. She and Mary started to fight about something. They shouted and then Mary was on the ground and not moving. Then you were there. Then the kapow.”

  The kapow.

  My day of being struck by lightning shall henceforth and forever more be referred to as The Great Kapow. My dad would get a kick out of that. “Did this...Mary come back after the kapow?”

  “Yes. She took something from Mary, then took my collar. Mary looked at you like she was mad, stole my sweater, and then left.”

  Okay. So someone not named Mary killed Violet and used the time I was unconscious to steal back the murder weapon, Winston’s collar and his sweater, then left both me and Winston for dead.

  And the only eyewitness was a Chihuahua named Winston.

  Chief Reed was going to love this.

  It made me a little mad, as well. Who abandons a dog in the middle of a thunderstorm? Or ever, for that matter?

  Winston scooted close to me and rested his paws on my thigh. “I was scared but I knew that you’d save me. I will live with you forever.”

  I stretched out on the bed, making room on the twin for Winston to curl up beside me. Looking at the little guy, wide eyes and the slight shiver that shook his body, I knew that no matter what else was malfunctioning in my life, that was an absolute truth.

  “Yes, Winston. You’ll live with me forever.”

  “Yay, Mary!”

  When I woke from my nap, Winston was curled up on my chest. His soft snores were kind of cute. His eyes blinked open, sensing that I was awake. “Mary!” He licked my nose.

  The nap was not on my agenda but I really needed the rest. I felt better than I had in, well, months.

  The aroma of roast finally hit me and my stomach growled in anticipation. After years of fast food and takeout, home-cooked meals were like heaven.

  All was quiet in the house. That must mean everyone had settled on the path my life should take before returning to their normal lives. No doubt Gramma will have left me more things to do on her legal pad.

  Winston shivered again. I rested a hand on his body. “Are you cold,
Winston?”

  “It’s nice and toasty here with you.”

  “Good. We’ll see if we can find you some sweaters for when you do get cold, okay?”

  “Mary kept a lot of sweaters for me. And my squeaks.” He stretched before leaping off the bed to wait at the bedroom door. “And my food and my bed.”

  “We’ll figure something out until we can get those for you.”

  “Just as long as I’m with Mary.”

  “Winston,” I said back. “We need to work on you getting my name right.”

  That time was not now. He shot out the door and bounded down the stairs. I followed, albeit a little slower, thumping my way along in sock feet.

  Dad was in the living room watching CNN. Gramma and Mom talked quietly at the kitchen counter. Winston headed straight for Dad and jumped up in his lap to help watch the news, while I detoured into the kitchen to find out what they’d planned for my life.

  “The dead return,” Gramma said. She waggled her elbow towards the pad sitting on the table.

  Do I know my family or what?

  I took my time to get some juice before making myself comfortable to read my new and improved Honey-Do list. To my surprise, the list was broken into several parts with a name not mine at the top of all but one.

  “Jolene said to call her when you’re up,” Mom said.

  Still groggy from my nap, I nodded and went over the list.

  We, I mean they...oh nuts, who am I kidding...we were still going ahead with this idea of organizing a dog show to help the animal shelter.

  Don’t get me wrong, I loved the idea of saving the animal shelter and will, of course, do everything in my power to help but I wasn’t keen on doing a dog show all on my own. My family, as they always do, made it clear I wasn’t alone in organizing it. It was clear by the way they had divvied up the list and not leaving the bulk of tasks to me. Yet for reasons that were unknown to me, it was my name being credited as spearheading it.

  If they only knew the kinds of egos bound up in dog shows, even amateur ones, they’d realize this was going to be a big undertaking. Even for a good cause.

  “She said that you looked at a property as a possible shop location,” Mom continued not-so-casually. “And even took down the realtor’s name.”

  Take a close family, add small town nosiness in large doses, mix well, and get no secrets as a baked result. Especially if Jolene Dyson is involved.

  “I did.” There was no need to lie about it. Working with the animals themselves was a complete joy. Their owners, however?

  “Oh, honey.” Mom sat next to me to squeeze my hands, doughy fingers and all. “I’m really pleased to hear that. I know you love doing that. Maybe here in Harmony Grove, it’ll be a little less...”

  “Cutthroat?” Gramma offered.

  “Yes. That too. I was going to say stressful. You’ll have more flexible hours and all the help you could need because you know your father and I will do what we can.”

  Flexible hours. I suppose they could be considered flexible, depending on the client load of the day. “Thanks, Mom.” I looked at my dough-covered hand.

  Embarrassed, Mom smiled and used her apron to wipe our hands off. “Go call Jolene and invite her to dinner if you like.”

  I appreciated how my mom qualified that, leaving me the final option of inviting my best friend. As if I wouldn’t invite Jolene. I didn’t realize just how much I missed her until I got back and had full-time access again.

  I went to the living room to grab the house phone, along with Gramma’s pad. I checked in on Winston, who was fast asleep on my father’s chest. Due to my father’s snores, it was reasonable to assume he was asleep too. It was kind of cute. Hopefully they’d stay like that for a while.

  I sat on my bed and called up Jolene’s number. “Hey, Mom says come to dinner.”

  “As if I’d miss your mom’s cooking. What’s for dinner? Never mind. Even if it’s grilled cheese it’s going to be delicious. You sound rested.”

  “I am, a little. I guess Winston and I needed a nap.”

  “You saw our list?”

  “I did and thank you for not leaving everything at my feet.”

  “We wouldn’t do that.” Jolene paused. “Strike that. If this were happening a year from now, yes we would have but we can be thoughtful when it counts.”

  “It’s appreciated.” Should I tell her about Winston and him talking to me? Probably best left until I could figure out if I needed professional help or if it was really happening. I was still trying to get my head around everything. “I’ll see you then. We’ll talk about this division of labor over dinner.”

  The pages of lists sat in front of me. It was warming to see how much my family was willing to pitch in. Even my dad had his own section, even if there was only one line item beneath it.

  Motivational director.

  Winston also had his thing to do. Mascot.

  That worked.

  For myself, I had to track down paperwork, establish a bank account and get my money transferred, apply for business licenses. One item on the list stood out to me.

  Business name.

  That was a good one. It needed to be perfect. Something clever. Cute. Something that spoke to exactly what the business was. Right now, I was fresh out of ideas. How could I possibly be creative at a time like this? A woman was dead, even if she was a very not nice person. I was on the hook as a suspect. The jerk police chief, all with his piercing blue eyes and nice smelling cologne and filling out his uniform ever so nicely was being a jerk.

  And poor Winston was an orphan. He didn’t even have his sweater or any of his squeaks. In fact, he had no supplies at all.

  Flipping to a fresh page, I made a fast list of things I needed to get from the Piggly Wiggly. Tearing off the half page, I stomped into my Sketchers, pulled my hair back into a fast ponytail, and grabbed my purse.

  “Mom, I need to borrow your car,” I said as I raced into the kitchen.

  “The key ring is hanging off the strap of my purse.” She followed me into the living room. “But dinner’s almost ready.”

  “I won’t be gone long. Just to get Winston some food and a bowl, maybe a few treats and a squeaky toy so he doesn’t get bored.”

  We both glanced at him perched on top of Dad’s chest, his tail whipping back and forth, narrowly missing Dad’s nose.

  “Take him with you,” Mom said. “Something tells me he enjoys car rides. And pick me up some fresh garlic.”

  “I love car rides, Mary!” Winston said. Barked. Could anyone else understand him?

  I glanced at Mom but she was already heading back into the kitchen so I’d take that as a no. It didn’t even wake Dad up.

  “Come on, Winston,” I said. “We’re going to the grocery store.”

  With Winston tucked under my arm, we headed into the Pig, which is what Dad called it. Gramma referred to it as the Hoggly Woggly.

  “Winston? While we’re here, point out the lady who was arguing with Violet before the kapow if you see her.”

  “Okay, Mary!”

  There was a small selection of toys and I found a couple that Winston approved of, a bag of small dog food and a water-slash-food bowl set. There wasn’t anything that resembled a dog bed. That might necessitate a trip to Walmart in Yazoo City, which wouldn’t be today since I was operating on borrowed time so close to supper.

  The last thing to get was the garlic, and after getting my bearings I headed for the produce section.

  It didn’t take long to find everything on my list. I decided a fast turn through the fruit was in order to pick up some fresh oranges for me and Gramma. In a hurry, I didn’t notice the man standing next to me as we both reached for the same bag. “Oh,” I said with a gasp as we both picked it up. “I’m sorry. I guess we both had the right—”

  Straightening, there was no mistaking the blue eyes staring back at me over the bag we both held. I let it go as if it were on fire. “Sorry, Chief.”

  Trut
hfully, I didn’t recognize him at first. He was in street clothes and his hair wasn’t so anal-retentively combed back. But those blue eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere.

  Even out of uniform, he looked neat and presentable. My shirt was wrinkled, my hair was wild and unruly even in the ponytail. I’m sure I looked like I just woke from a nap.

  How awkward.

  “No trouble, Miss Cooper. Like you said, we both had the right idea.” He extended the bag for me to take. It would have been rude not to take it, so I did with a mumbled thank you.

  I glanced in his shopping basket. There wasn’t a lot in there. He had an assortment of fresh vegetables for a salad, a small package of ground beef and packaged spices to make chili.

  Dad would be scandalized.

  It looked like it was enough for one. Maybe two? The thought bothered me.

  Oh, and not because that would mean he’s not single. Only that I pity the woman who was dining with him.

  Yes. That was it.

  “Is that Mrs. Pickering’s dog?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I um...sort of ended up with him. I wasn’t going to keep him.” I rushed to say. “I mean...I do want to but if he has family that he needs to go to, I will turn him over.”

  “No, Mary! You said I was staying with you!”

  “Hush, Winston.” I pet his head to keep him quiet. “He’s so excitable. So, any progress on the case since we saw you this afternoon?”

  “I have a few leads to look into. You know I can’t discuss any of this with you.”

  “No, of course not. Does that mean I’m still a suspect?”

  “I’m afraid so. And you know I can’t discuss this with you.”

  “I heard you but you have to understand that I’m a little concerned. I’ve been in town a week and already I’m accused of murder.” If all else fails, try to appeal to his humanity. Surely he had some underneath his penetrating glare.