The Cats that Flooded the Manor by Golden Karen Anne

Author:Golden, Karen Anne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday Late Afternoon

Chief Merrill parked her police cruiser in the parking lot behind the Melody Manor owned by Sarah Richards and strode up to the side door. She hadn’t talked to Sarah since they had a falling out about a parking issue. The owner had three designated spaces behind her B&B and when it was full, she instructed guests to park in the church parking lot next door. The pastor wasn’t happy about it and complained. So, when the chief approached Sarah to discuss the problem, Sarah slammed the door in her face.

Today, she wondered how receptive Sarah would be to her asking a few questions. She rang the doorbell several times and when Sarah didn’t answer, she tried the doorknob, found it unlocked, and walked in. “Sarah,” she called. “It’s Chief Merrill. I need to speak to you.”

Sarah came down the hall. “What do you want?” she said in an unforgiving tone of not letting bygones be bygones.

“Is John home?”

“My ex-husband John? You know as well as I do that he passed away. You came to the funeral.”

“I meant John Jr.”

“Whatever do you mean? John doesn’t live here.”

“This is the address on file with the work release program.”

“Oh, that,” she said dismissively. “He uses this address for his business, but he lives on the other side of town in the trailer park.”

“Could I have his address?”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“Let’s start with you giving me his address.”

“Oh, all right. There’s no need to be pushy. It’s 720 Chesterfield Road, trailer #30. It’s a rusted piece of junk. You can’t miss it. Now, what do you want with John?”

“Do you know his whereabouts over the weekend?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Where was he?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

The chief grew impatient with Sarah’s inability—or unwillingness—to answer simple questions. “Do I have to haul you off to the station to formally ask you a few questions?”

“Well, no. I have a business to run.”

“Allow me to repeat my last question. Where was John on Friday night?”

“He was here at the B&B.”

“Why? Does John work here?”

“Yes, when I’m out-of-town, John takes care of the Manor.”

“You mean take care of the guests? Do you have a register with their names and addresses on it?”

“Why, sure. It’s right here,” Mrs. Richards said, fumbling through a stack of papers. “Here it is. Friday through check-out Monday morning.”

The chief studied the list of names. Not finding what she was looking for, she asked, “Did a Maggie Murphy stay here over the weekend?”

“If her name isn’t on the list, then she didn’t stay here,” Mrs. Richards said with a scowl. “Why does everyone think she stayed here?”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Oh, her daughter and her friend. They’re staying here right now.”

The chief backtracked. “I see three names here, staying in three rooms. I assume married couples.”

“Yes. Of course, they’re married. What do you think, I’m running a brothel here?”

“How many bedrooms do you rent out?”

“Four,” Mrs. Richards answered.

“So, you weren’t fully booked over the weekend?”

“No.”

“One of your rooms was available?”

“Not really, because John stayed in that room.

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