No Accounting for Murder

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Her mind whirling, Carly made her way home through the damp night. Shivering against the cold as she entered the house, she considered starting the fire in the fireplace. Glancing at the clock and seeing the time-past midnight-she decided not to. Planning to go to bed as soon as she collected her thoughts around her, Carly settled once more in her easy chair. Doc sauntered into the room from the kitchen and she patted her lap absently as she considered the events of the past few days. Doc hopped nimbly onto her lap, turned around twice, then settled down. She tucked her cold hands underneath his warm tummy and smiled as he purred.

Once again, Carly wished Mike were here to talk over the confusing thoughts that wouldn't leave her mind. Somehow having to put her thoughts in some semblance of order to explain to him made the pieces come together easier. Although sometimes his logic didn't line up with hers, in the end, he was usually proven correct.

She also missed having him here when it was time to go to sleep. The bed always seemed big and cold without him. While she often had to sleep with only a sheet over her in the summer because he tended to be warm, she did like snuggling into him on colder evenings.

And the memory of their afternoon interlude was still fresh in her mind. What was it about intimacy that made her want him even more? She shook her head at her ruminations. Mike was a kind and considerate lover, completely unlike her first husband. Sometimes she was amazed at her good fortune.

One thought kept returning to the top of the list: the Midwest connection. Pulling her hand from under Doc's tummy, she tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. Doc lifted his head briefly at the slight interruption to his nap, then settled his head once again, tucking his nose under the tip of his tail. Carly paused in her finger-tapping to pat his head gently. She envied his laissez-faire lifestyle once again.

Still her mind churned, refusing to let her succumb to the lure of sleep. Leaning her head back against the soft cushions of the easy chair, she willed herself to fall asleep. She tried counting sheep and ended up balancing her checkbook. Staring at the ceiling only made her notice the cobweb in the far corner over the bookshelf, which reminded her she needed to clean the house before Denise and the kids arrived.

She blew out a heavy sigh and sat upright, pulling her legs underneath her, upsetting Doc in the process. Lazily he peered at her through half-closed eyes, accusing her as only a cat can.

"Sorry, Doc," she whispered. "Let's watch some TV." She dug around in the chair cushions, looking for the remote and flicked the TV on. Carly winced as she heard a familiar name.

"Jackson Wells, mayor of quiet Bear Cove, was well-liked and easily won his bid for re-election when he ran for an unprecedented fourth term last year. His death is being investigated by the county sheriff, as there are several unanswered questions surrounding the incident. He is survived by his wife and three adult children."

Carly scowled, remembering her last encounter with Mayor Wells. He had acted so out-of-character that Carly knew there had to be some connection between him, the missing money, and the nudist colony. As she considered what the connection could be, a reference to Riverdale Academy caught her attention.

"In late breaking news today, an anonymous source has told us that Riverdale Academy, a private school in the town of Riverdale, is under investigation for missing funds. Our source tells us a large sum of money is missing and the suspect is a volunteer at the school who kept the financial records for the school. Names are being withheld until formal charges are laid, which our source is confident will be before the school board meeting Friday."

Carly watched, spellbound. They had as good as accused Denise of being an embezzler. On television. "Do you hear that, Doc?" Carly's mind raced as she considered her options. She had to do more to clear Denise's name. "And what source?"

Riverdale wasn't much bigger than Bear Cove, and practically everyone knew Denise volunteered at the school.

She pounded the arm of the chair in frustration. "What are we going to do?" The tip of Doc's tail twitched at the sound of her voice, but otherwise he had no response for her. "I have to prove who really took the money, or else Denise's reputation, and Don's business, will be ruined."

"I'm pretty sure I know who owns that car, Doc." She forced a smile at the sleeping feline. "For the life of me I can't remember. Help me think, Doc."

Still Doc didn't waken to come to her help. She laid her hand on his back and enjoyed the feel of his soft fur against her hand. She struggled to recall conversations, confused as to why her brain didn't seem to want to work.

Dimly, she remembered the accident. When she ran into an elephant. No, that was the rock. But the car that sped past her then stopped in the middle of the road was a tan sedan. She tried to remember what kind of car Bert Myers drove. He couldn't be involved-he wanted to find the truth. Jacob came next on her list of suspects. He drove a small compact. Said he liked to get good gas mileage.

Could it be her car? Carly giggled at the thought. Maybe she had driven there in her own car and had some kind of flashback experience. Maybe the stress of the past few days had finally caught up with her. Hadn't she read somewhere that pregnancy messes with a woman's hormones and she can feel like she's losing her mind?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. No, this was silly thinking. Her car was green, not beige.

No, not beige. Silver fawn.

How did she know the name of the color?

She thought back to the last few days. Who had she talked with? Maria Beckwith? No. Mrs. Cooke? Not her. Mrs. Bailes? Nope. Daniels's car wasn't beige, at least she didn't think it was. No, she'd already ruled him out.

Carly rubbed her eyes, feeling so tired she was fuzzy-headed. What was going on that she should be so tired these last days? Was that a symptom of stress or pregnancy or was it something else?

Carly desperately wished Mike would come home and help her think this through. Logical, orderly Mike. Well, of course, she could be logical too, just in a different way. Maybe she should call Susan to talk with her.

She reached for the telephone and almost fell out of the chair. Doc slept soundly on her lap, so soundly that when she caught herself awkwardly to keep from falling on the floor, he landed on the carpet instead. Still, he didn't move.

That was odd. He never slept that deeply. She picked him up and returned him to his place in her lap. As she tried to remember Susan's phone number, her eyelids drooped more and more. She needed to catch up on her sleep.

"I'll take a nap then call Susan."

But Doc didn't hear her. She pulled the quilt up to her chin. Her eyelids kept getting heavier and heavier, and a moment before they closed, one face loomed before her-Susan's mother. Susan's mother had a new car, silver fawn. Susan had told her about it today. But that was ridiculous. Susan's mother had no need to be involved. She didn't stand to gain anything. Nothing Carly could figure.

But Susan did.

And then everything went black.