Barbara Levenson - Mary Magruder Katz 03 - Outrageous October by Barbara Levenson Page A

asked.
    “Sure, Sunday is fine, but what about this evening? My boyfriend and I are going to the Salt Hill Pub to listen to some jazz. You are welcome to join us,” Riley said.
    “Thanks, that’s so nice of you, but I have a dinner plan for tonight. Does your boyfriend live in the village?”
    “No, he lives up in Hanover. He’s the high school hockey coach. Who are you having dinner with? I didn’t know you had friends around here.”
    “I don’t except for two kids at Dartmouth who belong to one of my clients. I met a local lawyer yesterday and he asked me to dinner. I love hockey. When does the high school play?”
    “Don’t change the subject. Which local attorney?”
    “Dash Mellman. Do you know him?”
    “Well, you are the foxy girl, finding one of our eligible bachelors before the week is out. Everyone knows everyone here. Dash is kind of quiet, but he’s okay and not too bad to look at. Meet me in front of the mini-mart tomorrow around noon, and I want to hear all about your date.”
    “It’s not really a date, Riley; just two lawyers comparing notes. See you tomorrow.”

.
    CHAPTER
    TWENTY-FOUR
    I returned to Lucy’s comfortable house and settled in front of a cozy fire that I started all by myself. I settled on the sofa and started one of the books I bought. When I looked up it was five o’clock. I haven’t felt this relaxed since I once played hooky and stayed home in bed with a little cold. Then I remembered a few months ago when Carlos and I had spent the weekend at his parents beach condo on Marco Island. We had laid on the warm sand and let all our office stress float away on the waves from the Gulf. I wished I could get rid of all those memories.
    Keeping busy was what I needed right now. I fed Sam and ran him around the back yard. Then I showered and dressed in slacks, my one cashmere sweater and full makeup including eye shadow and mascara. The new leather jacket looked fashionable and felt warm. I whistled for Sam to put him in his crate. I didn’t want him running loose in Lucy’s perfect house. He is prone to eating any available cushion containing foam.
    That was when I realized that the crate was nowhere in the house or car. I remembered that in my haste to be out of the Brousseau murder house, I left the crate sitting in the bedroom.
    I glanced at the clock. I had thirty minutes before Dash was picking me up. I put Sam on his leash and tried to decide whether to walk through the woods between the two houses or drive. I opted for the walk. It seemed quicker.
    As soon as we came through the stand of oak trees, I could actually see the Brousseau house. I sprinted down the semi-cleared area and approached the side of the house. The barn door was partially open and the Black Subaru was visible. It was back.
    “Someone must be staying in this house,” I said to Sam.
    We marched up the porch to the front door. I decided to knock. No one answered and Sam was pulling hard on his leash. I opened the unlocked door and yelled “hello” several times. My voice echoed up the stairs. Then Sam began to bark.
    I pulled him with me down the hall to the guest room and there was the crate, just where I left it. I pulled the crate by its handle along behind me. Sam struggled and tried to go up the stairs.
    I shoved open the front door and managed to get the crate, Sam and me to the driveway. Dog crates aren’t really crates. They are holding cages. Dogs feel safe in them, sort of like a traveling bed and breakfast. They aren’t heavy, just very bulky.
    We started back toward the woods. Darkness was fast approaching. The trees rattled in the wind. Their branches looked like tentacles on a giant animal. Some birds flew toward us shrieking a warning that announced our presence. As we started down the path, a branch touched my face and I let out a screech too.
    That was when I saw something or someone running behind a stand of white birch trees, their white bark illuminating a figure. The sun was