Murder, She Barked

An hour later, Holmes walked Rose home, and Oma trundled off to bed with Gingersnap. I pretended to go up to my quarters, but I simply left my purse on the coffee table and promptly returned to the second floor. I located the housekeeping closet, where we kept the cleaning supplies and linens, and rummaged around. Trixie waited outside the door. I found two blankets and a pillow. That should do the trick.

I tiptoed down the hallway to the balcony overlooking the reception area. Murmuring voices stopped, and I could hear footsteps on the stairs. Probably Oma! There wasn’t any place to hide.

I hurried back to the housekeeping closet and called Trixie. The silly girl wouldn’t come. Would—not—come. Evidently, she had a fear of small spaces—the elevator, the bathroom, and now the housekeeping closet, which was the size of a walk-in closet. Glancing toward the staircase, I lunged at her, scooped her into my arms, smuggled the writhing dog inside, and closed the door.

She fought me with all her strength. “Quit that! No one is going to hurt you.” Thank goodness she didn’t bark.

I counted one Mississippi, two Mississippi until I thought Oma must have passed the point where she could see me.

The hallway lay still when we emerged. I set Trixie down and grabbed my blankets and pillow. Trixie didn’t quite understand the stealthy nature of our operation, but I did my best to walk very quietly.

My timing couldn’t have been better. I peeked around the corner just in time to see Gingersnap’s tail vanish inside Oma’s apartment. The lock clicked behind them.

Perfect! I tiptoed to her door, spread out one of the blankets on the floor, and propped the pillow up against her door. If I fell asleep, I would surely wake if it opened for any reason.

Twinkletoes showed up and demonstrated how she’d acquired her name. She walked along the banister of the balcony as unconcerned as if she were walking on the floor. I knew cats were supposed to right themselves when they fell, but it scared the wits out of me anyway. Moving slowly, so I wouldn’t alarm her, I approached her and gently gathered her into my arms, away from that dangerous railing.

Beneath us, Casey worked at the desk. I could only assume that he hadn’t heard us yet. I hoped to keep it that way.

I snuggled, as much as anyone could, on the hard floor. I had covered it with one blanket and thrown the other one over me. My trousers cut into my waist, and I wished I had taken the time to brush my teeth. I didn’t dare leave, though. I unfastened the top of my trousers and felt more comfortable. Trixie must have forgiven me for wresting her into the tiny housekeeping room because she curled up next to me, her body pressing against the blanket by my hips.

Twinkletoes roamed the balcony. Sconces lighted the area where I lay. Through the ornate wrought iron of the railing, I could see the lights on the antler chandelier that hung in the reception area below.

Easing back against the pillow, I closed my eyes but couldn’t help thinking about Ben and Holmes. Just between me and myself, I knew deep in my heart that if I thought I had even a remote chance with Holmes, I would drop Ben. The thought crushed me. I’d been so sure Ben was the one for me. In spite of Oma and Rose’s assessment, I knew he was a warm and caring man. Okay, given his two terrible proposals, I could scratch warm. The second one hadn’t really been a proposal of marriage at all. He was smart, even if Kim had managed to elude him today. He was genuine—that was important. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. He was serious. So he didn’t make me laugh much. What was more important? Laughter or taking life seriously?

I squiggled down into a more comfortable position, landing on my cell phone. Probably not a good thing.

The phone at the reception desk rang softly beneath me.

I yanked my phone out from under the blanket and realized with horror that I’d managed to dial the inn when I sat on it. “Uh, sorry, Casey,” I whispered. “My mistake.”

I set the phone on the floor, on the other side of Trixie, where I couldn’t accidentally roll over on it in my sleep.

I settled down and closed my eyes. The truth was that my love for Holmes was just a remnant of a schoolgirl infatuation. Honestly! What had happened to me? I came to the land of dogs and cats, where people spoke of ghosts like they were real, and I’d lost all good sense. Holmes wasn’t available, and even if I woke up tomorrow morning and discovered that he had broken off his engagement, he probably wasn’t the person I had manufactured in my mind as the perfect guy. So there. I had to get back to reality. Ben might be unimaginative, but he was a solid person.

• • •

I must have drifted off. The next thing I knew, Trixie barked. Like a periscope, Twinkletoes aimed her attention at the hallway. Trixie barked again. Scrambling to her feet, she kicked my phone over the balcony and took off running.

“Shh!” I loped after her. “Trixie?” I hissed.