Dooley Is Dead Read online

  “Mommy’s here!”

  Lissa and Ursie took off towards the rear of the house. By the time Matthew and Diana got the breakfast trash safely deposited in the kitchen and charged out the back door, Ginny’s Subaru was already parked beside Diana’s Queen Vic, and Ginny was hauling something big and shiny out of its hatchback.

  Matthew’s neighbors lived out of sight down the road, but Diana bet they heard the high-pitched squeal of delight when a bright pink bicycle came to rest in the Troutman’s driveway.

  “Mommy, you bought me a bike!” Lissa screamed. “I’ve been wanting it forever, it’s awesome!”

  Everybody clapped and made a fuss. Diana offered up a little prayer of thanks that Ginny had come through for Lissa. She had expected the worst of Matthew’s daughter, but was thrilled to be proven wrong.

  “It’s really beautiful.” Diana stroked the padded saddle seat and rang the chrome bell. The bike was retro, almost like the one she’d grown up with, pedal brakes and all.

  “Very cool.” Matthew adjusted the training wheels. “These will help you learn to ride like a pro.”

  “Thanks, Mommy. Can I ride it now?”

  “Sure, take a spin down the road, but be careful.”

  Lissa was off in a flash, giggling and wobbling, with Ursie trotting alongside, her ears pinned back as she watched the spinning spokes and considered biting the tires.

  “Lookin’ good!” Matthew hollered. He wrapped a loving arm around Ginny’s waist. “Lissa’s a quick-study, just like her mama. Remember your first bike, Ginny?”

  But Ginny was busy watching Lissa’s jerky progress, breathlessly awaiting the first spill, the first skinned knees.

  “She’ll be all right,” Diana assured her. “The bike was a perfect choice, Ginny.”

  Ginny smiled and lifted her bloodshot eyes. “Thanks. I bought it at Wal-Mart. It was the only place open Sunday morning.”

  Ginny’s dark hair was tangled and her clothes were way past wrinkled. She stank of sweat, stale beer, and second-hand smoke. “Are you okay, Ginny? We were worried,” Diana said.

  “Yeah, where were you?” Matthew demanded. “You should have called.”

  Ginny snorted and faced Diana. “Now you know why I left home. Trout treats me like the six-year-old.”

  Diana refused to be caught in the middle of a father/daughter squabble. “I’ll fix you some breakfast, then we can give Lissa the gifts from Matthew and me.”

  Ginny lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “When did you find time for shopping, Diana?” She trudged wearily towards the house. “Look, all I want is a nap, but I guess I could eat some leftover birthday cake.”

  Before Matthew could launch into a tirade about Ginny’s unorthodox eating habits, they were distracted by a dust cloud and the sound of a car approaching much too fast.

  “Shit, I hope Lissa’s not riding in the middle of the road.” Ginny’s tired eyes stretched wide open with fear.

  “She’ll get outta the way,” Matthew said without conviction.

  Diana wondered who was coming. Matthew lived at the end of a dead-end street, so the only people who ventured this far usually had business with Matthew. Before she could speculate further, a black and white Davidson police car skidded to a halt, scattering gravel at their feet. She was astonished when a familiar cop in plain clothes climbed out and approached. To say the least, it was not a welcome intrusion.

  “Hello, Mr. Troutman, remember me?” The officer tipped an imaginary hat. “My name is Peter Sokolsky. It’s Lieutenant Sokolsky now.” He extended his hand, which Matthew reluctantly shook.

  “Did you see a little girl riding her bike?” Matthew growled. “You were driving way too fast for this neighborhood.”

  Sokolsky shrugged. “Yeah, I saw her and the dog up near the corner.”

  The bright sunlight glinted off the patrol car, so that Diana had to lift her hand and shield her eyes for a better look. Sure enough, she remembered this character Sokolsky from several years ago, when she’d had a break-in at her condo. He was a small, wiry little man with nervous gray eyes set in a pale face. He had wolf-like features and a Napoleonic complex, but as far as she knew, he was a good cop. They had struck up an uneasy friendship back then because Sokolsky hailed from Camden, New Jersey, right across the river from Diana’s native Philly, but that was where the common ground ended.

  Ginny blanched white at Diana’s side.

  “What can we do for you, Lieutenant?” Matthew asked as the officer drew near.

  Sokolsky stood too close to Diana and Ginny. Diana noticed the man still favored baggy trousers and colorful Hawaiian shirts---rather flashy attire for conservative little Davidson.

  “I have no business with you, Mr. Troutman.” Sokolsky stared at both women. “But I want a word with you, Mrs. Rittenhouse, and with this woman I presume is Trout’s daughter?”

  “Yes, Ginny’s my daughter. What do you want?”

  “Do you own an old red and white Ford pickup, license plate says Trout ’58?”

  “I do,” Matthew answered coldly.

  Diana saw the warning tick behind Matthew’s left eye and knew his temper was about to boil over.

  “But you didn’t use it yesterday morning, did you, sir? These two women drove it, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, we did.” Diana broke in. “Ginny did the driving, I was the passenger.”

  “And you delivered a wedding present to Lori Fowler, is that correct?”

  Diana felt Ginny’s body trembling. She reached out to give the girl’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then held on tight.

  “Yeah, we went there.” Ginny’s voice shook. “But no one was home.”

  Sokolsky inched so close, Diana could smell lifesavers on his breath. “Did you go inside and search the house, Miss Troutman?”

  “Of course not. I rang the doorbells front and back, but no one answered, so Diana and I took the gift and left.”

  “Dead women don’t answer doorbells. Are you sure you didn’t go inside Lori Fowler’s house?” Sokolsky whispered in a low, menacing voice.

  “I told you, no!” Ginny shouted.

  “We have a witness, Miss Troutman, so you should level with me.”

  Matthew anchored a heavy hand on Sokolsky’s shoulder. “You heard the lady, Lieutenant, so back off.”

  At that moment, Lissa arrived on her bike. She was flushed with excitement, with Ursie in tow. The dog was barking like a maniac. She looked up at the cop. “Are you coming to my birthday party?”

  Sokolsky ignored the child. “I intend to question you both---Mrs. Rittenhouse, Miss Troutman---so please get into the patrol car. I’ll take you to the station in Davidson.”

  “But it’s my daughter’s birthday!” Ginny cried.

  “Ask your questions here and now, Lieutenant.” Matthew said firmly. “No one’s going with you to Davidson.”

  Diana’s mind raced as she remembered the fateful day she took Ginny to Highland Gardens. She recalled driving up Shepherd’s Road and passing into Iredell County. Sokolsky was a Davidson policeman, which gave him jurisdiction in Mecklenberg, not Iredell.

  “Why are you here, Lieutenant?” she challenged him. “Considering where the murder took place, shouldn’t the investigation go to the Iredell County Sheriff?”

  Doubt rippled across Sokolsky’s face as he checked the watch on his skinny arm. “It’s complicated. Lori Fowler died at a Davidson address, and the rest doesn’t concern you,” he snapped.

  But Diana could tell she’d hit a nerve. She knew Sokolsky was insanely ambitious and not above blurring a fuzzy boundary or two. In fact, she’d seen this pissing contest before when a murder occurred on a bridge over Lake Norman—Davidson on one side, Mooresville on the other—and Sokolsky had duked it out for jurisdiction back then.

  Nevertheless, today he was the law, and they’d have to put up with it. A large cloud floated across the sun, and Diana felt its chill as she screwed up her courage and whispered into Sokolsky’s ear. “Please don�
��t do this. You don’t want the child to see you taking us away in a squad car.”

  “But I need to question you separately.” He frowned.

  “No problem.” Matthew captured Sokolsky’s arm and led him decisively towards the lake. “You can sit on the patio and enjoy this beautiful day. Chat with one lady, and then the other.”

  “Well, I am pressed for time, so it might be more efficient to do it your way.”

  “And you can eat some of my birthday cake,” Lissa said.

  Diana peeked at Ginny as the men moved ahead. The young woman’s hand was cold and clammy, her eyes expanded in panic. ‘Are you okay with this?” she whispered once the men were out of earshot.

  “Not really. What should we do?”

  Sokolsky spun around. “No more talking, ladies.” He crooked his little finger at Diana. “You first, Mrs. Rittenhouse.”

  “Just tell the truth,” Diana warned as she let go of Ginny’s hand and moved through the lawn to her interrogation.

  SEVENTEEN

  Wish come true…

  Sokolsky spent about fifteen minutes with Diana, mostly asking questions about the Jeep Diana freely admitted she’d seen in Lori’s drive. Did Diana know who owned the Jeep? Of course not. Did Diana go into the house with Ginny?

  “Is that a trick question?” Diana finally lost patience with the man. “I already told you I stayed in the truck the whole time, and I never saw Ginny go into that house.”

  “Maybe not, but you couldn’t see what happened once Miss Troutman went around back, could you?”

  “I stayed in the car,” Diana repeated.

  Sokolsky smiled. “Yes, I already knew that. As I said, we have a witness, and he verifies your story.”

  Obviously Sokolsky’s witness was the blond kid with the skateboard, the one who had crashed into Matthew’s truck, the one on TV. That being the case, Diana knew for a fact the boy had stayed out front the whole time, so he could not have seen what happened in back, either. If he said anything different, he was lying.

  “Very good, Mrs. Rittenhouse.” Peter Sokolsky smirked. “You passed the exam with flying colors, now I hope your friend Miss Troutman scores half as well.”

  Bastard.

  Diana and Matthew watched Ginny’s interview from behind the glass sliders in the living room, as Diana fumed with indignation. She prayed Ginny wasn’t doing anything stupid---like lying to a police officer. Diana hated to admit it, but she feared Ginny was lying to everyone. Or at least she was withholding the truth. She was certain Ginny knew who owned that Jeep, but was afraid to implicate him. And she strongly suspected Ginny had entered Lori’s house. But her stressed imagination refused to consider the unthinkable.

  That worst-case scenario was impossible, because Ginny was Matthew’s daughter, the recipient of a genetic code that precluded violence of any kind. Matthew abhorred harming any of God’s creatures, let alone a human being, and Ginny had his blood.

  Diana believed this at her core, but would the authorities? Judging from the girl’s body language during the interview, Sokolsky was giving Ginny a very hard time. As the sun continued to duck in and out of the clouds and whitecaps churned on the lake, Ginny waved her arms, then retreated into her shell. Her complexion shifted from pale to flushed, then back again.

  Sokolsky was equally erratic---scowling then smiling, nodding then shaking his head--- until Diana no longer knew what to think. No doubt the cop was cross-referencing their stories, and she hoped Ginny would say nothing contradictory. She was dying to know how Ginny had fared, but the only way to find out was to get Ginny alone somehow once Sokolsky left. So Diana began scheming to do just that.

  During the ordeal, Matthew avoided watching too closely. Instead he tossed a tennis ball back and forth to Lissa, with Ursie playing man in the middle.

  “Ursie didn’t like that cop,” he said. “Did you hear her growl? She never does that.”

  “Yes, I heard.” But Diana was more interested in the fact that Ginny’s interview was over.

  Lissa noticed, too. “Can the man have some cake now?”

  “No!” Diana and Matthew said in unison.

  “I can wrap it in a napkin and take it to him,” the child generously offered.

  “No, Lissa, the man is leaving now.” Matthew snatched the tennis ball and tucked it in his pocket.

  Sure enough, Sokolsky spotted them watching from behind the glass, waggled his fingers and smiled before loping around to his car. Moments later, he fired up the cruiser and left.

  Ginny came inside, running nervous fingers through her tangled hair. “Bastard,” she muttered.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Diana called out as Ginny headed for the bathroom. “How did you do?”

  “I’m beat. I’m going to bed.”

  “No, Mommy! We have to light the candles on my birthday cake…” Lissa latched onto Ginny’s leg. “Please?”

  Ginny grunted something that sounded like assent, so moments later, they all moved to the kitchen. They set plates on the table and were about to light the candles when they noticed Ursie growling at the back door.

  “Now what?” Ginny groaned.

  “She’s waiting for the big bad wolf to come back in his black and white cruiser,” Diana said. “Ursie took an instant dislike to the good lieutenant.”

  “That’s one smart dog,” Ginny said.

  “Is the big bad wolf coming here?” Lissa was worried.

  “Oh no, honey,” Diana quickly corrected her gaff. “It was only a joke, now light your candles.”

  “Don’t forget to make a wish.” Matthew located matches and did the honors.

  Lissa blew hard, and for the second time that morning, six little flames were extinguished. After everyone finished eating, as Ginny prepared for her nap, Lissa shyly approached her mother. “Mommy, can we stay here with Grandpa and Miss Diana?”

  Ginny exhaled. “Tell you what, Punkin, that was not the plan, but things change. The big bad wolf won’t let me leave town…” She cast a meaningful glance at Diana. “So yeah, we can stay here for now.”

  Lissa took only a moment to process out the stuff about the big bad wolf before digesting the good news.

  Her little face expanded in a huge smile. “Awesome! My wish came true!”

  EIGHTEEN

  The presence of a stranger…

  Diana was determined to get Ginny alone. She wanted to know, once and for all, exactly what Ginny had seen that day at Lori’s house. But once Lissa blew out the candles, the Troutmans began to scatter. Lissa went to get her new bike, Matthew moved towards the storage shed in search of Ginny’s old bike, intending to dust it off, add air to the tires, and accompany his granddaughter up the road. Ginny rushed towards the bedroom.

  “Wait, Ginny, we need to talk.”

  “God, Diana, can’t you see I’m wasted? I can’t function one more minute without some sleep.”

  Diana clamped a restraining hand on Ginny’s wrist. “Sorry, but I want the truth. I also want to know what you told Sokolsky.”

  Ginny stared out the back window to where Matthew and Lissa were starting out on their adventure. Lissa was hunched over the handlebars, riding gleeful circles around Matthew, who was wobbling and weaving on a rickety old bike much too small for him.

  “Check it out…” Ginny said. “Trout looks like a circus bear on a tricycle.”

  Diana chuckled at Matthew’s antics. The man was a good sport, she thought as the odd couple disappeared up the road. But then she tightened her grip on Ginny. “Please don’t change the subject. Did you go into Lori’s house that day? The boy witness on the news claimed he found the back door open.”

  “Jesus, NO! How many times do I have to tell everybody?”

  “Okay then, did you see your old boyfriend Trevor at the house?”

  Ginny sighed and yanked her wrist free. ”Of course not. Why would you ask such a stupid question?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Did you tell Lieutenant Sokolsky about the
Jeep?”

  Again Ginny glanced out the window as Diana watched the girl’s eyes for the telltale shifting that preceded a lie. Instead, she saw Ginny’s eyes change from defiance, to surprise, and then finish with an emotion akin to shock.

  “What is it?” Diana followed her glance.

  “Speaking of that Jeep…”

  Sure enough, the same classic Jeep they had seen in Lori Fowler’s driveway was now pulling into Matthew’s driveway. The two women huddled close together as it parked. The driver hesitated, extracted his long body from the vehicle, then stood to his full, tall height in the flickering shade of the pecan tree.

  “Is that Trevor?” Diana gaped at the handsome young man in a lightweight tan suit. He tugged at his collar, loosening his tie, then looked warily around the yard. He was like a stealthy hunter stalking prey, or perhaps by the look of uncertainty in his darting eyes, he felt more like the prey---prepared to bolt at the first sign of danger.

  “What’s he doing here?” Ginny seemed at the point of panic.

  “I’d guess he’s come to see you, Ginny.”

  Satisfied the coast was clear, the man took a deep breath and strode towards the house. Diana felt Ginny’s cold, trembling fingers on her arm.

  “What should I do, Diana?”

  “Invite the man in.”

  “But he hasn’t come here in years. Trout hates his guts.”

  Diana tried to steady the girl. “That was then, this is now. For heaven’s sake, get a grip.”

  Trevor’s first knock was timid, his second more bold. Diana practically dragged Ginny to the door. “Listen, you came all the way from Nevada to see him, and now he’s here.” She opened the door and offered what she hoped was a cordial smile. “Hello, I’m Diana Rittenhouse. Come on in.”

  He ducked slightly as he crossed the threshold, a habit often shared by tall men used to bumping their heads. He held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Trevor Dula.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” She shook his hand. His skin was warm and moist as he shuffled nervously foot to foot, his soulful eyes never leaving Ginny’s face.