Кэти Дэйли - The Mystery Before Christmas [calibre]

He accepted the ball from a black lab and then tossed it again. “I’d love to come by and help. I am planning to work for a while on Saturday in the hope of getting caught up on my paperwork, but I can probably be done by one or two unless there is a break in Buford’s murder case.”

A sheltie had wandered over, and I bent over to scratch him behind the ears. “So, are you formally calling Buford’s death a murder?”

“Only between you and me. I don’t have enough evidence one way or the other to state as much conclusively, and the mayor doesn’t want me using the ‘M’ word unless I absolutely have to.”

Kneeling down on the tile floor, I picked up a small terrier that had wandered over for some attention and cuddled him to my chest. “But you think there is something to find?”

Cass nodded. “My gut tells me, yes. I spoke to the coroner. He said that it is likely that the blow to the head that Buford seems to have suffered before his death could have been enough to cause him to pass out. He didn’t think it was hard enough to kill him, and he has listed the official cause of death as hypothermia. We did discuss a scenario where Buford was rendered unconscious due to the blow and then froze to death, and the coroner thinks that scenario is very possible. Buford did have alcohol in his system as well, but in the coroner’s opinion, he hadn’t ingested enough to render him unconscious, although I suppose one could argue that it was the alcohol that impaired his judgment and caused him to be out in the storm in the first place. The mayor is really invested in the idea that the man simply wandered out into the storm while intoxicated, passed out, and froze to death, but I’m less certain of that.”

“So if someone did hit Buford, and if that blow to the head is what led to his death, any idea who might be responsible?”

Cass shook his head slowly. “No idea at all. I’ve been talking to folks who knew Buford, hoping that a motive will appear, but so far all I really know for certain is that a whole lot of people had a beef with the guy, but no one was mad enough to kill him.”

“Tom mentioned Ford Fisher. He said he has been acting oddly. Secretive. Evasive. He’s been staying home and not interacting with anyone.”

Cass narrowed his gaze. “A couple of the guys from over at the bar said something similar. I really can’t see Ford killing Buford, but I suppose I ought to stop by and check on him. He is getting on in years, and I worry about his health.”

I smiled. “Seems like you worry about everyone in this town for one reason or another.”

Cass shrugged. “It’s my job to serve and protect. Part of that service includes a healthy dose of worry. Speaking of which, I know that Paisley has been worrying about her grandmother since her mother died. Pamela Keller mentioned it when I stopped by the school to give my talk on winter safety.”

Pamela Keller was Paisley’s teacher.

“Paisley is understandably having a difficult time. She is sad that her mother didn’t get the miracle they hoped for and worried that her grandmother might be next. Gracie and I have been doing what we can to help out with rides and meals and whatnot. I’m not sure what will happen in the long run. Paisley’s grandmother is getting on in years, and unlike Gracie, who is as healthy as a horse, Ethel has been dealing with a few health issues of her own.”

Cass tossed several balls in quick succession, and the entire group of dogs went after them once again.

“I feel for both Paisley and her grandmother. If there is anything I can do, just let me know. Is someone taking care of her shoveling and plowing?”

I nodded. “A group from the church has been coming by and keeping the walks and drive clear. I think the community as a whole is doing what they can. Hopefully, it will be enough. According to Gracie, Paisley has an aunt who lives in New Jersey who is willing to take her if Ethel decides she can’t manage a ten-year-old on her own, but Gracie also said that Paisley doesn’t know this aunt and really wants to stay here in a familiar environment where she has friends she can lean on for support.”

“I suppose that if Paisley does have to move, she’ll make new friends.”

I bowed my head. “I guess, but the death of her mother has been hard enough to deal with. She needs time to grieve and to heal. She needs to be in a familiar environment where she feels safe. At least for now.”

“I agree.” Cass gathered up the balls that had been dropped at his feet and tossed them again. “And hopefully with everyone’s help, Ethel will feel she is able to manage.” Cass looked at his watch. “I guess we should begin to wrap this up. I promised Naomi I’d take care of the nighttime routine since Hancock is back in town, and the two had made plans.”

Naomi Potter owned the shelter, and Hancock was Naomi’s sort-of boyfriend. Actually, when Naomi had mentioned him to me, she’d referred to him as her lover.

“So, what is this guy’s deal anyway?” I asked. “I know Naomi said he is in Naval Intelligence, but he seems to pop in and out without notice, and he never really says where he’s been or how long he might stay.”

Cass shrugged. “I don’t know any more than anyone else does. The guy just showed up in town one day, met Naomi, and they hit it off, so in spite of the fact he comes and goes like a thief in the night, they’ve settled into a relationship of sorts. He obviously is not at liberty to say where he has been or where he might be headed next, so those of us who know him, simply don’t ask.”

I supposed that if Naomi was okay with the arrangement, I was as well, but the whole thing still seemed really odd to me. “I’ll take care of the dogs and cats, and you can take care of the rest of the crew,” I suggested, remembering the hard time Naomi’s llama, Harry, gave me the last time we helped out.

“Sounds like a plan,” Cass agreed. “I’ll start with the horses.” In addition to the dogs, cats, puppies, and kittens always in residence, Naomi currently had a pen full of mules, a couple of cows, two horses, and Harry, who, as I understood it, was here to stay. “Two of the dogs need medication, so I’ll take care of that as well,” he offered.

“Yeah, that might be best,” I agreed.

Cass and I had helped out with the feeding and tucking in of the animals on several occasions, so I was familiar with the routine, but I wasn’t all that skilled at administering medication. Other than the meds, and the ornery llama, it was pretty easy since Naomi always left instructions for each animal in terms of the type and amount of food to be presented at each meal pinned to the board in her office. We just needed to distribute the food, check everyone’s water supply, clean up any messes we came across, and make sure everyone was tucked in and locked up for the night.

Once that was done, Cass and I usually grabbed a pizza or burger together. Tonight, we opted for pizza. Cass’s dog, Milo, was with us as he was most days, but since he was an official police dog, he was allowed to lay quietly under the table while we ate. The restaurant Cass chose was one of my favorites. It had a genuine Italian feel to it, and if you weren’t in the mood for pizza, they served pasta dishes as well. Like most of the other businesses in Foxtail Lake, Luigi’s was all decked out for the holiday.

“Did you hear that Secret Santa struck again?” the waitress, whose nametag read Giovanna, asked Cass when she came over to take our order.

“I hadn’t heard. Who was the lucky recipient this time?” Cass asked.

“Grover Wood. You know how he lost his contracting business a while back when he couldn’t continue to do heavy labor after his snowmobile accident.”