1 Who Killed My Boss? (9 page)

“What happened?”

Gus smiled down at me, “Don’t worry, honey, everything is going to be fine. You’re just lucky no one lit a match. The carriage house’ll be fine as soon as we air it out.”

Air it out? What was he talking about? I knew that I probably had “nap breath,” but hell, I’d showered before I went to sleep and planned on brushing my teeth before my date. I suddenly remembered that I was nude the last time I looked. Unfortunately my head refused to move and I couldn’t check the status of my clothing.

Michael looked at Gus, “Let’s move her into your house, okay? We need to get her off the ground.”

“What happened?”

“I suppose you can take her into my home, but I hope it won’t be for long. Mr. Granville needs his rest you know, too much excitement can lead to…”

“Damn it, Georgianne, quit jabbering and open the damn door.”

Jeez, I would have paid money for this.

“What happened?” I was feeling a bit redundant by this time. It appeared that I was the star of this melodrama, but no one was paying attention to me.

“What happened?” I yelled, or more correctly, I tried to yell, but my throat hurt and my voice sounded like it used to after a night of beer and cigarettes. I felt like shit, too.

“We’ll tell you everything in a minute, Sam. Right now, we’re going to take you into the Granville’s house. I guess we should take her dog, too.” Michael glanced at Gus for permission. He probably already knew that Georgianne wouldn’t roll out the welcome mat for Clancy.

“Clancy. Where is she? What happened?” That took my remaining energy and was all I remembered until I woke up on the Granville’s sofa. Jill was hovering over me, playing doctor. Okay, so she is a doctor, but she’s my kid sister and it’s hard to take.

“What happened?” I’m nothing if not persistent. Stubborn might be a more apt description, but damn it, I was entitled to know what in the hell was going on.

Jill decided to treat me like a grown up. “There was a gas leak or something in your home and you breathed a lot of fumes. I want to take you in to the ER to check your blood gasses, run some other tests, and to keep an eye on you for a while.”

Jill looked so cute and grown up with the stethoscope around her neck. Was this competent young physician my baby sister? I decided she was serious and I better obey.

“Where’s Clancy?” With that I noticed that the kisses being planted on my face were not a gift from Michael as I’d fantasized, but came from my faithful companion. Clancy seemed no worse for the wear.

“How did I get out?”

Now it was Gus’s turn. “That was the darndest thing, Sam. I heard Clancy barking real loud, like she does when strangers come to your door. So I looked out the back window and didn’t see anything. She was still barking, so I put on my coat and went out. At the same time this nice young man was approaching your house and we both smelled gas. Lucky I had my keys with me. I unlocked your door and we saw Clancy lying on her belly barking like crazy. This young man opened windows while I followed Clancy to you. I found you on your bed, passed out.”

“My clothes?” I stammered, hoping against hope that Michael hadn’t seen me nude. If I was passed out that meant I wasn’t holding my stomach in.

Gus reassured me. “Don’t worry, honey, I wrapped you in your grandma’s quilt that was on your bed.”

I glanced down, saw the quilt and felt better. Then a scream escaped my raw throat, “Eeeeyuk.”

“What?” The word came from everyone at once.

“Eeeeyuk. Georgianne’s housecoat. Eeeeyuk.” How could they do that to me?

Georgianne seemed oblivious to my distaste. “I assumed you’d want to be modest under the quilt, so when we brought you inside I volunteered the use of my dressing gown.”

I stammered my thanks, and tried to figure out how to ditch the robe as soon as possible. And to think Michael was looking at me, in clothing that clashed with every single fiber of my being.

Again I returned to the subject of my housemate, “How did Clancy survive? She weighs a few pounds less than I do.”

Michael ignored my slight exaggeration. “She was splayed out on the floor by the door. Almost looked like she’d been through some military basic training and knew to stay low to the ground.”

Gus continued the saga, “We brought you outside and I turned off the main gas line. Georgianne called Jill. You always tell me she’s the best doctor in the city. After you came around, we carried you in here. Jill arrived a few minutes ago.”

I smiled in spite of it all. So did Jill.

“I appreciate everyone’s concern but I’m not going to the ER.”

“Oh yes you are.” Jill again.

“Oh no I’m not.”

“Oh yes you are.” Michael’s turn.

“Oh no I’m not.”

“Oh yes you…” Gus and Georgianne began in unison.

“Oh no I’m not…‌to infinity.”

“Infinity plus one,” chimed in Jill. “I win and you’re going to the hospital.”

“But I’ve got a date with Michael.” This in a whining voice from the pathetic loser, me. No one heard me, or if they did, they ignored my protestations.

Finally, I decided fighting was futile. If Jill wanted me to go to “Darling Memorial” then I would.

I turned to my friend. “Gus, would you keep Clancy for me? She’d feel better close to home.”

Gus said yes immediately and ignored his wife’s malevolent stare. I knew he’d pay for this later, but was grateful that he dared go against Georgianne. That was true friendship. Clancy would be one less thing I’d have to worry about now.

Then I remembered Michael. “Michael, our date…” Now I was almost blubbering. Can you beat that? Not the least bit upset that I almost died, but that I was forced to miss the big date.

“That’s okay. I’ll cancel our reservations. I’ll go with you to the hospital and I’ll grab something to eat there.”

I decided to be unselfish. “No, I wouldn’t wish hospital food on a friend. Call me later tonight. I’m sure I’ll be home before bedtime. We’ll talk.” I still wanted to find out some things, like what he’d been doing at Burns’ office, in the ER, and at Burns’ house with Carolyn.

He finally agreed with me, pecked me on the cheek and left. Our first kiss and I felt sick. Plus smelled like gas. I just knew he’d come back for more.

Jill drove as she did everything else—confidently. “Put that blanket around you. Just relax and don’t try to sit up straight. We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes.” I smiled in spite of my headache. This was a nice change of roles for me, the nurturee rather than the nurturer. I could get used to this.

Jill took charge when we got there. She quickly drew blood, not waiting for a medical technologist to arrive. When she was assured of my comfort, she left.

As I was waiting in the treatment room for the results of the tests, the door opened and
he
stood there showing concern. My un-favorite detective, Butthead.

His suit looked the same—rumpled, but decent looking. I idly wondered who picked them out for him. Was he married? Who would have him? What did I ever see in him? Why was I asking myself so many questions?

Looking like a Columbo who was losing his hair, he began, “I heard you had some trouble at your house. You okay?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” I turned the tables on him, because I recalled that this was virtually the same question he asked me when we found Dr. Burns dead on the floor.

“Don’t get all defensive on me. Gus called me because he was concerned about the supposed gas leak at your house. Gus prides himself on running a tight ship, so he was upset, not only at you being in danger, but also because he was sure that the house was safe. I called Central Illinois Public Service, and they sent out a technician to check. There was a gas leak behind your stove, but there’s a possibility that someone tampered with the line. There were a few suspicious holes in the pipe. Feeling suicidal, Sam?”

God, I wanted to wipe that grin off of his face. “You know, I’m feeling more homicidal than suicidal.”

He ignored my clever jibe. “Do you know anyone that might want to see you dead? Or maybe just scare you?”

“No. There might be a few misguided souls who might not like me, but I don’t think anyone would want to kill me.”

He smiled that smile again. Dammit, why did he make me so mad after all these years?

He made a feeble attempt to grasp my hand, which I evaded with the skill of a commando.

“This is a serious matter.” He tried to appear unaffected by my rebuff. “There’s a good chance someone tried to kill you, or at the very least make you sick. I want to talk to you again tomorrow when you’re feeling better. In the meantime, the gas company is working on the line and it should be fixed by morning.”

Jill entered at that moment and piped in, “She can stay at my house tonight, Detective. She seems fine, but I want to keep an eye on her anyway.” She went off to call her husband, Ben.

After she left, B.H. turned toward me and asked, “I’d like to ask you a personal question.”

I had a horrible headache, but figured a little more agony wouldn’t do any harm. “Sure.”

“What’s this B.H. stuff?”

I was too tired to beat around the bush. “’B.H.’ stands for ‘Butthead’. I thought it was more respectful to abbreviate it, so I don’t embarrass you in public.”

“Butthead, huh?” The smile didn’t falter for long. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, don’t you? You know, I didn’t stand you up on purpose. Prom night was kinda important to me too. I just…”

I interrupted him; “I’m not interested in your pathetic apologies. You stood me up. You didn’t call. You didn’t attempt to explain. I think that says it all.”

His usual cool disappeared. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. I felt great. He eyed me one last time, then turned and headed for the door. He glanced back and in a more businesslike tone said, “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” With that, he was gone.

See, that’s another thing I hate about men. He was the Butthead, but I felt guilty. My short-term elation at his discomfort was just that. There was a murderer still on the loose and here I was, laid up.

After arriving at Jill’s, I still felt bad and decided to take a nap. A fitting ending to an overly-eventful day.

NINE

I
awoke the next
morning to kisses. “Clancy, cut it out. I’ll take you outside in a minute.” Then I heard giggles that were decidedly un-Clancylike.

Jill’s kids were attacking me with smooches. Jack and Marty were four and three respectively, and were bundles of energy. Jack had his mother’s fair complexion and blonde hair and Marty was the spitting image of his father, Ben, with dark hair and dark eyes. Together these two kids looked like a salt and pepper set, delightful and complementary.

“Ready for breakfast, Sam?” Ben grinned at me from the kitchen doorway, brandishing a pan and spatula. A wisp of dark hair fell over his eyes. Attired in a “Kiss the Cook” apron that fit nicely over his jeans and T-shirt, he looked every inch the strong man that he was.

“Did you make your special pancakes?”

“Yep, and we got coffee and juice, too.”

“Count me in.” A healthy appetite was something I could always count on.

I allowed the kids to tug on me and to help pull me up from the couch and lead me to the kitchen. This was a very comfortable home. I’d been here many times, primarily because I was Jill’s godmother and in our family, we took that role seriously and it was a life-long relationship.

Jill had the good fortune—and good sense—to marry a great guy. Ben was a plumber and was struggling to start his own business. He had worked for other people while Jill was in medical school, and now it was her turn to provide the major financial support while his company was in its infancy. When they were both at work, the kids stayed at Angie and Ed’s. Angie provided daycare for the family. It worked out well for everyone.

Jill was already at work, so Ben said he would drop me off at my house when he took the kids to Angie’s. It was Saturday, but both of them had non-traditional work schedules.

I enjoyed the breakfast and ate much more than was wise. I was wondering if I dared ask for one more flapjack when my phone interrupted me. It was Gus.

“Your house is ship-shape again and Clancy is panting for your return.” It was comforting to know someone was.

Later, unlocking the door to the carriage house, it just seemed different. I normally felt so secure there. It was home. How dare someone invade my world with such potentially deadly results? Hating myself for being so weak, I felt the need to check each room, closet, and under every bed.

I began in the living room. Feeling foolish, I checked in Grandma’s armoire. It was stuffed with junk, just like always. No bad guys. There was a small coat closet in the front hall. Nothing there.

On to the dining room, my office. No closets, nothing anyone could hide in. I smiled at the stack of unpaid bills on my desk. They seemed a bit inconsequential when I thought about my close call last night.

The kitchen beckoned, a room with which I had a love/hate relationship. I loved the food and hated the work. No place for a nasty person to lurk, except for the almost bare pantry. Empty. Of people, as well as food.

I turned and made my way down the short hallway to my bedroom and bath. Lots of cubbyholes and hiding places back there. I’d never been a particularly cautious person nor easily frightened, but I felt my heart rate increase. I flicked on the light switch, opened the curtains and before I could talk myself out of it I flung open the closet door and the bathroom door at the same time. I jumped out of the way immediately, just in case someone was waiting to pounce. No one pounced. I looked under the king-sized bed. No monsters there either.

A search of the two bedrooms and bathroom upstairs also revealed no bogeyman. The upstairs bath was the hardest room to search, as the music from
Psycho
and
Jaws
both played in my head at the same time.

Satisfied, I re-locked the door and slowly walked across the back lawn to Gus and Georgianne’s.

Clancy greeted me in the expected way, with disdain. How dare I leave her overnight, even with someone as nice as Gus? Not to mention forcing the indignity of Georgianne on her.