Take Stock in Murder (19 page)

“By the way, are our membership dues current?” Carrie asked as she reclined her seat a little farther.

“We’re not only paid up, but I decided to pay for a year in advance. Remember the Club’s capital fund drive to get money for the addition? I was a good little Club member and helped the fund by paying ahead. Besides, my grandfather was a founding member. Therefore, we’re charter members and cannot be expelled as long as we pay our dues.” Charles turned into their lane.

“That’s the only way we can be thrown out, not for murder?” Carrie asked.

“Murder isn’t mentioned in the bylaws, but embezzling funds is listed,” answered Charles.

“Charles, have you embezzled any funds lately? All kidding aside, I’m not sure we should increase our visits to the Club.”

“You agree with that fool Marshall that we’re creating a disturbance?” he asked, annoyed.

“Not at all. I just think neither of our waistlines can take that kind of eating more than twice a month.” Carrie reached over and squeezed Charles’s arm.

“Have I told you I love you?” Charles said, pulling into their driveway.

“Not in the last several hours.” He leaned over to kiss her.

“Charles, look out!” Carrie yelled.

harles looked up in time to see a car racing down the middle of their driveway toward them. “Hold on!”

Charles swerved the car off the driveway between two trees, then turned back onto the asphalt surface. He braked hard and came to a sliding stop. Charles looked in the rearview mirror to see the dark shadow of a car careening into the street.

“Darling, are you all right?” Charles helped Carrie to sit up. The impact of hitting the grassy area and then braking had forced her even lower in the seat.

“Who the hell was that?” She struggled up with Charles’s help.

“Well, you sound OK. Did you see anything?”

Carrie was rubbing her elbow. “I saw the lights, and then when our car went off the driveway, I hit my elbow as I slid lower in the seat. How about you?”

“I couldn’t see the driver, but the car was a dark color. I don’t think black, but maybe maroon, dark blue, or green.”

“That narrows it down dramatically.”

“Now don’t be sarcastic. Did you see the driver?” Charles asked.

“No, but I did see one thing. The car had temporary tags.”

“Well done, Carrie.”

“Although I’m not sure how good a clue that is. Hundreds of people buy new cars,” she said.

“It’s still a smaller population of people, especially people associated with this case. But we’re going to have to work fast, because temporary tags are only good for thirty days. Depending on when he or she bought the car, they could be one day or twenty-nine days away from getting permanent plates.”

“Hey, you’re throwing cold water on my hot clue.”

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s a good clue.”

“I wonder what the driveway racer wanted. Come on, Charles. Don’t sit here. Let’s get up to the house and see what happened.”

Charles placed the car in gear and continued up the driveway. He glided smoothly into his parking place in the garage. Then he helped Carrie get out.

“Ouch.” She winced as the pain shot once again through her elbow.

“As soon as we get inside, I’m calling the doctor.”

“Really, I’m fine. This area of the elbow is very sensitive. It will be fine in the morning after I bathe it, rest it, and get something warm.”

“Something warm. Are you talking about me or something else?”

“I’m always talking about you, but right now I’m talking about a nice cup of hot chocolate.” She punched him gently in the ribs.

“You keep that up, and I’ll have to call the doctor for two injuries: your elbow
and
my ribs.”

The glass in the back door was broken, and the door stood slightly ajar. There was no doubt someone had been in the house. The kitchen cupboards were opened, and most of the contents had been thrown about the floor. The flour and sugar canisters had also been dumped.

“Holy mackerel! Will you look at this place! Is anything left in the cabinets?” Out of habit, Charles bent down and picked up several boxes.

“Charles, where’s Baxter?”

“I don’t know. Baxter! Baxter?” Charles called his name, knowing that cats have a tendency not to come when called.

“Charles, you don’t think the intruder took him, do you?” Carrie asked as tears welled up in her eyes.

Then they heard a scratching sound from the pantry. Charles and Carrie looked at each other as Charles took a kitchen knife from the holder and moved Carrie behind him. He carefully opened the door. Sitting on the floor, covered with flour, was Baxter.

“Oh, Baxter.” Carrie picked up the orange kitten, and he snuggled into her arms. “He’s shaking, Charles.”

“He’ll be all right.” Charles came over and ruffled the top of his head as flour clouds emerged from his fur. “He probably hid in the pantry when the intruder started throwing things.”

“Could a woman have handled the car, the way it sped out the driveway?”

“Absolutely. It could have been a woman driving. Why?”

“I think the lady with the shoes like mine was here.” Carrie stood over a small, pointed footprint outlined in the combination of flour and sugar.

“Don’t touch anything. I’m going to call the police.”

While Charles placed the call, Carrie checked the other rooms in the house. The living room and dining room had been spared the destruction. In the study, Carrie’s desk had been trashed. Multiple books from several of the bookcases had been thrown on the floor. The computer was still running, and Carrie’s disk box had been dumped.

“They’re on their way. Darling, you probably shouldn’t be touching anything.”

“I know, but I want to be sure my work is here.” Carrie picked up her disks. “It’s OK. The disks are all here.”

“Do you think she was after the paper we found at Todd’s?”

“If she was, she didn’t get it.” Carrie walked over to the calico cat bookends. She carefully unscrewed the paw and removed the paper. She waved it in the air. “Safe and sound in the calico cat. I wonder why she didn’t keep searching. Although she probably wouldn’t have known to unscrew the paw, nothing on this shelf has been touched.”

“I can answer that. Remember I said it would have taken two people to move Todd’s body. Murderer number two was at the Club and warned her we had left. Of course, she still cut her timing pretty close.”

“You don’t think it was James Marshall who warned her.”

“I don’t know. But I
do
know it had to be someone at the Club who saw us leave. The only problem is, I think most all the suspects saw us leave.”

“Marshall angered you, so you were driving pretty fast. If you hadn’t been, we probably never would have seen her coming down the driveway.”

“Are you criticizing my driving?” Before Carrie could answer, sirens could be heard coming into the driveway.

Carrie was amazed at how quickly the police looked the situation over and were ready to leave. When she questioned why they weren’t taking fingerprints or shoe prints, the police responded, “There have been a lot of break-ins in the area lately, and the intruders wear gloves. Since you indicate nothing appears to be stolen, we’ll file a report indicating that another break-in has occurred.”

Even when Charles pointed out that the break-in might be related to the murder of Todd Barrington, he received nothing more than a raised eyebrow. When Charles insisted this link was important, the officer made a call to his sergeant.

“The sergeant has made a note to pass on to the detectives in charge of the murder investigation. You know, you folks should think about installing an alarm system. A good alarm system would have alerted us the minute the intruder was on the premises.” The officer closed his notebook, and he and his partner said good-night.

Charles and Carrie watched the police car slowly retreat down the driveway. “That was a fascinating experience,” Charles commented.

“I was going to take firsthand notes to use in my next book on precise police investigation at a crime scene,” Carrie responded sarcastically.

“In some ways they’re correct,” he said reflectively. “Nothing was taken. The thief more than likely wore gloves.
We already know what shoe fits the print. In fact, why don’t you run upstairs and get the matching pair of shoes?”

A few minutes later, Carrie came down the back staircase to the kitchen. “Here they are, darling.” She opened the box and took out one shoe. “It looks like the right foot to me.”

Charles took the shoe and carefully placed it in the flour outline. “This print is slightly bigger than your shoe. Let’s see. You wear a size twelve,” he said with a grin.

“We’re having a good time tonight, aren’t we? I think it’s all that rich food you ate.” She laughed. “Just for the record, I wear a size seven and a half.”

“I know you do. I was just teasing. What do you think? Would this shoe print be about a size eight?”

Carrie stood directly over the print. “I think it’s a full size bigger, which would make it eight and a half. Of course, that is one of the most popular sizes.”

“By the way, where did you say you bought these shoes?”

“At Bentley’s Main Street Shoes. But Charles, this is a brand-name shoe, which means they’re sold in department stores as well as smaller independent stores like Bentley’s.”

“Admittedly, it’s another long shot, but I’ll bet our mystery woman bought these shoes at a local store like Bentley’s.”

“You know, Charles, I think I could use a new pair of shoes. My current pair seems to have flour on them.”

harles and Carrie were up early. They settled for buns and coffee for breakfast, so they could finish the cleanup. Charles took the kitchen, since he was particular about how the spices and cooking utensils were arranged. Carrie took ownership for straightening the study. She really didn’t care whether everything went back in its original spot, but she wanted to know what the new spot was.

Charles appeared at the doorway with a fresh cup of coffee for Carrie. “How long will it take before I know where everything is in this room?”

“Let’s see. I straightened the study six months ago. How long did it take you to learn the location of everything?”

“I was getting close, but I still had four bookshelves, two desk drawers, and a cabinet to go.”