Last Licks

He only stopped pestering her when she went up to her room and changed from the khakis she’d been wearing into a pair of shorts. And then he disappeared while Sunny and her dad watched some television in the living room.

Sunny decided on an early night, heading up the stairs to her room and yawning. Maybe she could make up some of the sleep she’d lost this morning.

She opened the door to her room and froze. Her khakis, which she’d hung from the back of a chair, were now on the floor in a heap. And lying on top of them, his head on the hems, was Shadow.

“Well, I guess I’m not wearing them again this week after all,” Sunny said. But the surprises weren’t over. When she tried to pull the pants out from under him, he looked up and actually hissed at her.

“Okay, buddy,” she told the cat, “you can have them for tonight. But after that outburst, don’t think you’re getting into bed with me.”

*

Sunny had a dreadful night, her dreams confused and disturbing. She stood at the doorway to a church—or was it the splendid entranceway to Bridgewater Hall? Sunny wasn’t sure, but she knew she was in a wedding gown. Her father stood beside her, a look of disapproval on his face. She was getting married—but to whom?

Rafe Warner came up, dressed in his guard’s uniform. But he walked by, into the church. So did Luke Daconto, carrying his guitar case. Gardner Scatterwell came rolling up in a wheelchair pushed by Alfred. Both of them smirked at her as they went past. Then came Will Price in his constable’s uniform. But he only looked at her sadly as he went into the church, too.

So who was the groom?

A limousine pulled up, and the chauffeur hustled round to open the door.

Shadow hopped out.

Sunny tried to say something, but there was no time. Shadow ran past her, and then the organ music started and her father took her arm.

And all the way down the long, long aisle, Sunny watched as Shadow kept going from bridesmaid to bridesmaid, sniffing their ankles.

Then the wedding bells began to peal.

No, wait a minute, that wasn’t the sound of wedding bells. It was the telephone. Sunny’s eyelids seemed gummed together, but she finally got them open. Woozily, she groped around for the phone. The bedside alarm read a few minutes after four.

“H’lo?” she managed to croak into the phone. If this turned out to be a wrong number—

“Sunny, that you? It’s Ollie—Oliver Barnstable.” His voice was tight and trembling. “I need you up here right away. Something’s going on. Gardner is dead.”

5

“Wh-What? Ollie? What happened? Hello?” Sunny realized she was almost shouting into the phone, but she got no answers. Ollie had already hung up. And when she dialed his number at Bridgewater Hall, she couldn’t get through. Instead, a recorded message came on, telling her that residents’ phones were not available from ten p.m. until nine a.m.

“Of course,” she muttered, staggering out of bed and heading for the bathroom. She almost stumbled over Shadow, who’d been awakened either by the ringing phone or by her end of the conversation. He hopped around her, obviously picking up on her anxiety.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Mike appeared in his doorway as Sunny stepped into the hall. Oh, wonderful. The ruckus had roused him out of bed, too. Sunny bit her lip, trying to decide on an answer. Early-morning alarms upset Mike, especially since over the past year he’d usually been the cause, awakening at ungodly hours suffering from angina attacks. But a phone call at four in the morning—he knew that meant bad news.

Finally, she decided to give it to him straight. “That was Ollie calling from Bridgewater Hall. Gardner Scatterwell passed away.” Slowly, the rest of what Ollie said percolated through her brain. “He said there was something wrong, and he wanted me up there right away.”

Sunny blinked. “Or did I dream that?”

“The phone definitely rang,” Mike told her. “So I guess the rest of it must be true, too. Can you call Ollie back?”

“No. I tried, but the system won’t let me call back for another five hours or so.” Sunny shook her head. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I suggest we wash up, have some coffee, and head up there.” Mike took it for granted that he would come, too. Sunny silently blessed the Kittery Harbor Way.

After they’d showered, dressed, and had a quick bite to eat, Sunny and her father got into her Wrangler, and they set off for Bridgewater Hall. They made good time in the predawn darkness; at this hour, traffic was almost nonexistent.

As they pulled into the parking lot in front of the nursing home, Sunny saw a lot more cars than she’d expected. Either the night staff uses the visitor’s parking, she thought, or . . .

Then she realized one of the cars—parked at a sloppy angle in front of the door—was an official Sheriff’s Department vehicle. For a moment, she wondered if Will had responded to the call. Then she shook her head. He was on the day shift now. That didn’t start for hours yet.