Sharon Henegar - Sleeping Dogs Lie

She hastily swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “Oh, but tell me what’s happening now,” she said. “Is he still in jail?” When she spoke of Carl, she didn’t need to use his name. Her voice took on an edge that could cut glass.

I nodded. “They made a case that he’s a flight risk.”

Kay said, “His lawyer tried to argue that Carl’s a pillar of the community, but the judge looked at how much money he has and decided to keep him in jail.”

“Quite right,” Bonnie sniffed. “Of course he would run away. He would set up a new identity somewhere else and ruin other lives.”

“That’s assuming he could have sneaked past the news media,” Bob said. He looked at me and shook his head. “No wonder you were leery of me when you thought I might be a reporter.”

I smiled at him. “You considered my reaction exaggerated, admit it.”

“I don’t know if Bob did, but I thought you were nuts,” my loving cousin said frankly. “I mean, I knew you’d been hurt by Roger and that you’re, well, sensitive—”

“Thin skinned, touchy, you can say it,” I told her.

Kay nodded. “Okay, thin skinned and touchy. But geez, this has been a zoo.” She turned to Bonnie. “They put guards on your door right away to keep the media out. Did you know that by the time the ambulance got you to the hospital, reporters were already here?”

“I'm afraid I wasn’t paying much attention at the time,” Bonnie said. “Is that why everyone stayed away for days? The news media?”

“That, plus you weren’t ready to entertain,” Ambrose said. “But eat your nice veggies and you’ll be better in no time.”

“The media scrum wasn’t just here,” I said. “Ambrose rode with you in the ambulance, and another patrol car came for Carl, and the rest of us went to the Willow Falls Police Station in Officer Smith’s car. Half a dozen news vans arrived before us.”

“They love things like a bank president running amok, shooting people in the woods and being bitten by one of his intended victims,” Kay said.

Bob added, “Just when we thought things were cooling off, word got out that some of the High Cross police might be involved. And they were off again.”

Kay began to laugh. “You should have seen Louisa on the news that first night. They caught her getting out of the patrol car. She had blood smeared on her face, and mud, and leaves in her hair.”

“While Carl was all neat and clean on the film, and he still had those obnoxious creases in his pants,” I said bitterly. “I looked far more evil than he did.”

Bob looked at me. “Creases?”

“At least Emily Ann looked beautiful,” I added, giving Bob an ‘I'll tell you later’ look.

“And now,” Kay said, “they are talking about a movie of the week loosely based on what happened.”

“Loosely?” Bonnie asked.

“Apparently the real thing wasn’t cinematic enough,” I explained. “Probably no good camera angles among the myanumma bushes.”

“But the good news is that the store got so much press,” Kay went on, “that we’ve sold so much I may have to close for a couple of weeks to find more inventory. And Ambrose and Bob have more business than they can handle. Even that oak monstrosity in the restaurant in High Cross is famous.”

A tap on the door. Officer George Smith stuck his head in, noted the group in the room, and entered. He held the door for Ed to follow. The room was as full as the proverbial sardine can. Bob and I retreated to the window and leaned hip-to-hip on the sill. Ed threaded his way to Bonnie and shook her hand. “You’re looking much better,” he told her with a crinkly smile, and I saw Bonnie squeeze his hand and smile in return. I began to understand what Kay saw in him. That smile was disarming.

Officer Smith shook hands with Ambrose and Kay, and smiled across the room and nodded to Bob and me. “Good, you’re all here,” he said. “Ed and I were going to start with Mrs. Becker, and I planned to call the rest of you in the morning.”

“What’s up?” Bob asked.

The officer looked at Bonnie. “We just heard from the detectives working on your case.”

All eyes were riveted on him.

“They’ve broken Walsh’s alibi for the night his stepson died.”

Bonnie’s quick intake of breath was loud in the silence that followed. Ed took up the narrative. “He claimed to have spent the night in a hotel in Kansas City. He had dinner with a young woman, and took her back to his room. We think he drugged her dinner. She passed out shortly after they went upstairs.”

Officer Smith nodded. “We’ve ascertained that Carl rented a motorcycle under an assumed name earlier in the day, and that’s how he got back to High Cross in the night.”

“A motorcycle!” Bonnie exclaimed.

“With the helmet on, no one he passed on the road would recognize him.”

“Then how—?” I began.

“The guy at the motorcycle shop picked his picture out of half a dozen that we showed him, and the woman he took to his room will testify that she doesn’t remember if he was there all night.” Officer Smith gave a satisfied smile.

“ And a police report was filed that night,” Ed added. “One of the neighbors complained about a dog making a lot of noise at Walsh’s house.” He looked at Bob. “Your dog must have done his best to get to Walsh, but he was locked out of the house.”

I swallowed hard at the thought of Jack futilely trying to get into the house to protect Ian that night. It was too vivid, and I pushed the image away. If only he could have saved Ian’s life, as he undoubtedly had saved mine.

Officer Smith’s voice was sober as he went on, “The DA thinks she has a real good chance of convicting him of Ian’s death at least, as well as your attempted murder, Mrs. Becker. They are still working on the night your sister died, but we’ll be able to put him away even without that.”

Bonnie carefully laid her fork down beside her plate and sat very still, her face tilted away from my view. She looked back, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Oh. God. Oh, thank you, George. And you, Ed. Nothing can bring back my sister or my nephew. But the pain of knowing he’d killed them and gotten away with it was even worse.”

I felt my own tears about to spill over. I blinked hard. Kay reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table and handed a couple to Bonnie. Ed took the box from her and gave it to me. He gave me a little pat on the shoulder, which threatened my composure even more. I blew my nose harder than I intended, and the honking noise raised a relieved laugh from everyone. “Oops, sorry,” I said. “That’s great news.” I handed the tissue box back to Ed.

“Get ready for more reporters,” he said, and Officer Smith nodded. “I understand the DA is planning a press conference for tomorrow morning.”

“Here we go again,” remarked Kay. “I can hardly wait to see the movie they make out of this thing.”

“I doubt if we’ll recognize it,” I said.

Kay nodded. “Carl’s rented Kawasaki will become a roaring Harley, and the actor playing him will have to have long hair so it can stream out dramatically in the moonlight.”

Ed grinned at the image. He turned to Bonnie, who suddenly looked exhausted. “Hey, you need to rest,” he said. “You’re still pretty pale.”

“I'm all right,” she said staunchly.

“You need to rest,” he said again.

Officer Smith said, “They’ll be here from the DA’s office here tomorrow to talk to you.” Bonnie nodded, and sighed.

Ed turned to my cousin. “You ready to go, Kay?”

“Go?” I inquired, giving Kay a look over the tops of my glasses. Her expression was particularly bland.

“Ed invited me to dinner,” she said, picking up her purse.