Nina Wright - Whiskey Mattimoe 02 - Whiskey Straight Up by Nina Wright

Author:Nina Wright [Wright, Nina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Cozy - Real Estate Broker - Michigan
ISBN: 0738708550
Publisher: Midnight Ink
Published: 2006-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

After Smith and Jones took turns interviewing me about my embarrassing encounter with C. Richards, R.N., who was probably Thomas McKondin, Jr., they quizzed me about Chester. Jenx cut short the interrogation, explaining that I had been hospitalized for hypothermia the day before and needed rest. The Fibbies weren’t the least bit curious about that. They warned me not to leave town and sent me on my way. Me and Rat-Stink, the Afghan hound.

Driving back to Vestige, I fought off a wave of paranoia. If I had correctly interpreted Deely Smarr’s phone call, Roy Vickers was waiting for me. Jenx had mentioned that the Michigan State Police wanted to question Roy, and now the FBI was in town. Any way you sliced it, I was probably harboring a suspected felon. Maybe a killer and/or kidnapper. Smith and Jones had asked me about the ex-con and his relationship to Chester. As far as I knew, they had no relationship, aside from Roy’s role as a retriever of messages. Whenever I thought of my new handyman, I pictured his blood-soaked jacket and hoped to God he’d ditched it before showing up at my door.

The Coast Guard nanny greeted me and Abra as we entered the kitchen. Her first words were not quite the welcome I’d expected: “Did anyone follow you home?”

I said no but was forced to admit that I hadn’t watched my rear-view mirror.

“Please don’t tell me you took your usual route,” Deely said.

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

She groaned.

In my defense, I explained that my canine passenger was flatulent. And I wasn’t feeling so great myself, having passed out twice within the past twenty-four hours.

“Your houseguest isn’t in the best shape, either,” Deely said. “I fed him, showed him the bathroom, and told him to lie down after his shower.”

“What about his clothes?” I asked, dreading her answer.

“Taken care of, ma’am,” she replied. “Damage control.”

“But isn’t that tampering with evidence?”

Deely frowned. “Roy arrived nearly naked. I found him some old clothes that must have belonged to your husband. They’re too small, but they’ll do until he can find something better.”

“Nearly naked?” I was torn between shock and concern and prurient curiosity. Also, I wondered where Deely had found Leo’s old clothes. I thought I had disposed of them all.

“Yes, ma’am. I treated Roy for exposure. I think he’ll be fine once he gets some rest.”

“But what happened to his clothes?” I asked, stuck on the image of a bare-assed buff Roy.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s the first rule in these situations.”

My expression prompted her to explain.

“If you don’t know, you won’t have to lie. Best not to know what Roy’s been up to.”

That reminded me of what Abra had been up to. As her unofficial trainer, Deely had a right to know. She handled the news with her usual calm.

“Eating a rotten rat won’t make her sick, but it will make her unpopular. I recommend keeping her outdoors until the worst has passed.”

I agreed and noticed that the nanny had, as promised, installed a doggie door connecting the kitchen to the new fenced-in exercise area.

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