Barking Mad at Murder by Jacqueline Vick

Author:Jacqueline Vick
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945403095
Publisher: Classical Reads

TWENTY-TWO

All night I’d thought about the bits and pieces surrounding the death of Margarita Morales. One thing that stuck out was a passing comment Dot had made when I first told her about the murder. She’d said there had been several Western art thefts in the area recently.

If Carlos Rodriguez was involved, then he must have had access to all the homes who’d suffered art thefts. Actually, the same could apply to any of the other people who regularly walked in and out of the Peters’ home, but my suspicions rested on Carlos because he sounded too good to be true. The nice guy who everybody liked. Just like his friend, Seamus. Those sexy dimples and that sweet, understanding nature had to be bogus—a front put on to protect the identity of the real killer, his best friend Carlos. Yes, Seamus was definitely too good to be true. I meant Carlos.

The Wolf Creek Gazette archived their editions electronically. That was the good news. The bad news was only subscribers could access the content.

Against newspapers in principle, I dutifully filled in an application for weekend delivery and, once they processed my credit card, searched for thefts over the past three months.

As each story came up, I scanned it for details about the stolen items. Anything that sounded like it might be Western art went on my list along with the name of the victim and the address. Usually the article included the name of the township or city, but sometimes the reporter included the street name, though not the actual address. I added the Peters to the list.

There were four stories that qualified until I realized a Half Moon was a bird and not some Indian artist.

I pulled out the greater metro Phoenix phone book and matched the last names to listings in the corresponding cities. By the time I finished, I had four crimes and nine possible homeowners, including the Peters.

The Peters were in Fountain Hills. Since I knew Carlos worked there, I put a check mark next to their name.

The second robbery occurred three weeks prior in Scottsdale. The surname of the family was Poole, but the story didn’t list a street address. I came up with an M. Poole, an Andrew Poole, and a Samuel Poole.

The third robbery occurred in Rio Verde, and there were four possible victims in that city with the same last name, Jimenez. The final theft took place in Hidden Hills on Sunset Vista Drive. The victim’s name was Myers, and they had an unlisted number.

There are children who revel in prank calls—phoning up strangers and lying to them. I wasn’t that child. While growing up in Wisconsin, my older cousin, Sharon, used to love to dial numbers and, in a funny accent, introduce herself as Conchita Banana. I suspected that Sharon kept a finger over the receiver and faked the calls, but I never had the nerve to check. Besides, I was too busy laughing my butt off. Conchita Banana is classic comedy to an eight-year-old.

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