Footprints in the Ferns, page 1
Footprints in the Ferns
Lovely Lethal Gardens 6
Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
About Gun in the Gardenias
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Author’s Note
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
A new cozy mystery series from USA Today best-selling author Dale Mayer. Follow gardener and amateur sleuth Doreen Montgomery—and her amusing and mostly lovable cat, dog, and parrot—as they catch murderers and solve crimes in lovely Kelowna, British Columbia.
Riches to rags. … Controlling to chaos. … But murder … not this time!
One night 10 years ago, 8-year-old Crystal, vanished from her bed in her parents’ house, the only clue a footprint in the flowerbed below the girl’s window.
Now that footprint’s reappeared, this time at the scene of another crime, and Doreen is under strict orders not to stick her nose into Corporal Mack Moreau’s new investigation.
But while Mack is busy with the new case, Doreen figures it can’t hurt if she just takes a quick look at the old one. Her house is empty, her antiques removed, and she has time on her hands. She’s finished working on Penny’s garden and needs a new project to keep her busy – and allow her to avoid the heavy work waiting in her own garden. And with the help of her assistants, Thaddeus the parrot, Goliath the Maine Coon, and Mugs the Basset, soon Doreen is busy navigating the world of pawn shops and blackmail as she looks for clues as to what happened to the girl stolen from her bedroom so many years ago.
Surely, it’s not her fault when her case butts up against the new one – is it?
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Chapter 1
Saturday Early Afternoon … the same day she closed her last case
Doreen stayed at the hospital for several hours. Penny’s surprise attack with a prybar had done more damage than she’d thought. But she was safely behind bars now and wouldn’t have a second chance at Doreen and her pets. Mack would see to that.
By the time she was released, she saw Mack walking up the front entranceway to the ER. Her heart lightened as his grin shone in her direction. “Did they call you to tell you that I was done?” she asked as his fingers gently pushed back her hair to check out her stitches.
He nodded, his gaze on her head. “I did ask them to tell me.”
“I’m feeling much better. Hopefully Scott will be there when I get home.” She didn’t want to miss out on his visit. It was too important. On the other hand she was tired and would love a nap before Scott arrived.
“I’m sorry I was detained. I had planned to be here earlier, but, while I was at the office dealing with Penny, something else popped up. We have another case that just came in with footprints, very strange footprints, giving us a connection to a case from ten years ago.”
“Oh, interesting.” Doreen perked up.
He shook his head. “No, no, no, it’s not a cold case. This is an ongoing one and not for you.”
“But it is ten years old,” she said. “So it’s a cold case.”
“Nope. Not now it isn’t,” he said. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, I could use a break. I don’t plan on solving footprints in the ferns.”
He froze. “Have you heard of the case?”
She tossed a look at him. “What case?”
“A young girl was kidnapped from her bedroom,” he said. “And all they left were footprints. Footprints in the ferns outside the house.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he said.
She chuckled and then reached up to her head and moaned. “How about you tell me more later. But not now.”
Chapter 2
Saturday Afternoon …
By the time Doreen woke up from her nap, her animals were curled all around her, as if understanding how badly hurt she was. Tired as well, she’d be happy to have a few days with no cold case to contemplate. Sure, getting hurt was her own fault, and she’d be the first to admit it, but, when things came to a crunch, they seemed to always come to a crunch on her.
Mack was right. She kept getting hurt. She had to figure out how to close these cold cases without the same ending. The trouble was, when she talked about putting people away for life, not one of the suspects wanted to walk that path happily. They all tried at the very end to grab that last hope for a bit of freedom. She understood it in theory, but it sucked in real life.
Groaning, she rolled over, spent the next few minutes cuddling the animals, telling them how much she loved them and loved having them in her life. Then her gaze caught sight of the time. It was afternoon already, and, as far as she knew, it was still Saturday, which meant Scott should have been here already or would be at any moment. She took a deep breath and slowly sat up. The room spun a little, but it wasn’t too bad. At least her head didn’t boom.
She walked into the bathroom and cried out in surprise at her face. She had blood along her temple and something on her cheek, which she scrubbed at. It looked like some medication or maybe iodine. She filled the sink with warm water and, using a washcloth, gently cleaned her hair and face as much as she could.
Somewhat presentable, if she ignored the couple stitches sticking out of her scalp, she changed her shirt to something that didn’t go over her head and hopefully wouldn’t get more blood on it. Her jeans were bloodstained too. She stripped out of those and put on leggings. Barefoot, she padded downstairs gingerly, then through the kitchen to the laundry room, and loaded up the washing machine, removing any sign of her rough morning.
Her animals had followed quietly behind her. “What’s up, guys?” When none answered, she asked again, “Why are you all so quiet?” With an instinctive shake of her head, Doreen felt instant pain because she knew they understood she was injured. She smiled, slowly bending down to pet them all. “I’ll be okay. Not to worry. Besides, I’m not so bad I can’t feed you guys.”
After giving them food, and moving carefully, she wandered the first floor. She didn’t remember Mack leaving but presumed he had as the alarms were set on the doors again. She pulled out her phone and sent him a text, thanking him.
Instead of texting her, he called her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” she said. “I’m up. I’m downstairs, and I’ll put on a pot of tea.”
“What, no coffee?” he asked humorously.
“Nope, not today. My head is aching already. Don’t think coffee would improve that.”
“I don’t think the headache and caffeine have anything to do with each other,” he said. “This has more to do with the pry bar you left on the workbench.”
“Is that what she hit me with?” she whispered, aghast. “I knew I should have found a storage place for that damn thing.”
“Are you okay to keep all the tools now, after what happened?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “It wasn’t the tools’ fault. Besides, I’ll use them eventually.”
He chuckled. “I guess if I need something, I know who to borrow from.”
“Anytime. I don’t even know what half of them are called.”
“I know,” he said. “The irony wasn’t lost on me.”
“But to think she used one of my own tools …”
“She probably thought it was still hers. And George, up in heaven, was probably rooting her on.”
“I wonder,” she said. “From his journal entries, it seemed like he was saddened by everything that came to pass.”
“I imagine he was. You’ve been asleep for a couple hours, so don’t freak out when you look outside and see cop cars.”
“Why are cop cars here?” she asked in an ominous tone of voice.
“Because they have to go through the garage, looking for forensic evidence. There’s your blood and the attempted murder weapon, etcetera.”
She groaned and asked, “How long before the media finds out?”
“Hopefully not until after Scott leaves. Any word from him?”
As a beep sounded, she glanced at her phone to see a text came in. “I think he’s texting me now. I’ll call you back.”
She checked the text, and, sure enough, it was Scott, apologizing for being late. “You guys stay inside while the cops are here, okay? I’ll be back soon.” She walked out to the garage and asked the one officer she knew, “Arnold, how much longer will you guys be here?”
Arnold just waved at her and said, “We’re almost done. Why?”
&n bsp; “Because I have an antiques dealer coming to look at this stuff.” She pointed around the garage. “I need him to have access.”
“Not a problem,” Arnold said. “How are you feeling?”
“Like somebody hit me over the head with a pry bar,” she said with a wince. “And, by the way, where is that?”
“It’s in evidence.”
She sighed. “I don’t really need it for anything, so whatever.” She caught the grin that flashed on his face, but he immediately schooled his features into looking sorry for her. She smiled at him. “I know,” she said. “I’m not badly hurt. Besides, it’s worth it. An awful lot of people will get some closure now.”
“We didn’t even know we needed to find closure for some of these deaths,” Arnold said with half a snort. “What the hell did we do without your help before?”
She thought she heard a really heavy note of sarcasm in there, but she hoped he didn’t mean it because she wasn’t feeling well enough to deal with it. “Just so long as you realize I’m not doing this on purpose.”
At that, he burst out laughing.
She glared at him, her hands on her hips. “I don’t deliberately walk into dangerous situations, you know.”
“But you do,” Arnold said. “And you keep doing it time and time again. On the other hand, the community thanks you. Not one of us would have thought Penny had ever committed murder or even attempted a murder.”
“What about George?”
Arnold shook his head. “He was the biggest teddy bear anybody ever knew.”
“Which is, of course, why he did what he did,” she said gently. “He was trying to protect Penny.”
“But the nurse?”
“Once you go down that path,” Doreen said, “I guess every other murder gets easier. And, in this case, once again, George was trying to protect Penny. Because the nurse would likely have blackmailed George or confessed and created all kinds of problems.”
“So then why didn’t George go after Hornby?” Arnold asked. “Just so many unanswered questions.”
“George didn’t go after Hornby because, I think, by then, George was completely racked with guilt. He knew he was dying, and he wanted to make good so he could go to heaven,” she said quietly. “And knowing he had done so many wrongs, he spent the rest of his life trying to do some rights. And, when trying to save Penny, in his mind, then death was justified, but he didn’t have any reason to kill off Hornby.”
“And yet, Penny had no problem with it?”
“Well, she blamed Hornby for George’s death,” she said. “After Hornby had blackmailed George, he got serious about committing suicide.”
“Any idea what he used?”
“A lot of plants are in their garden,” she said, “many of them lethal.”
Arnold stopped, peering around the garage into her backyard garden, and she nodded. “I have a lot of lethal things growing in my garden too. But so do you, and you don’t even know it.” She chuckled at the look on his face. She waved her arm at the furniture. “I just need to make sure the appraiser can take a look at all this.”
Arnold stepped closer, looking at the contents with a confused expression on his face, and she shook her head. “You know as much as I do. For all I know, none of this is worth anything, and it’s just great-looking junk. But, until I know, I don’t want anything damaged.”
Thankfully the officers were already packing up their equipment and loading their vehicles. She smiled and waved as they took off, muttering, “I don’t have a death wish, you know?”
They hadn’t been gone more than a couple minutes as she stood, her face tilted up into the sunshine, before Scott drove up in a rental vehicle. He hopped out and said, “Now that’s what I like to see, somebody doing nothing but enjoying the day.”
She didn’t dare tell him what her morning had been like. “Nice to see you again.”
“I hope it’s for all the right reasons,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“I don’t know,” she said. “We emptied the garage of junk and hauled that away, and then we moved up as much as we could from the basement into the garage, but the basement is still full too.”
Scott stepped forward, his gaze going to the set of coffee tables and two pot chairs. His eyebrows rose, and he said, “Well, this isn’t quite the same quality or value as the set we already took, but this set will fetch a very nice penny.”
She winced. “Could you be a little more specific?”
He chuckled. “I have to go over all the pieces to be sure …” He walked around, counting. “This is, what? One, two, three, four, five pieces here. Four, five, six pieces,” he corrected himself. “Maybe forty thousand at the end of the day?”
She just stared at him.
He said, “I know that’s not as much as you would have liked …”
“It’s a lot more than I had thought to get,” she corrected. “So selling this set is an absolute yes.”
He nodded. “Good.” He took some photos and made some notes. “What else have you got?” He wandered around. “This dining room table is easily seventeen thousand. The fact that you have six chairs with original covers on them,” he said, “yeah, absolutely. Do you want to sell it?”
“Let me tell you right now that if you want anything here, you can have it if you can sell it for a decent price,” she said. “I know some very high-end furniture would easily cost seventeen thousand, but I’m not living at that level anymore. So, if you can get seventeen for this set, please do it.”
“Oh, that’s what you’ll get. We can probably sell it for twenty-three or twenty-four. Maybe higher.”
And, at that, she just wandered behind him as he went through piece by piece by piece. He turned, looked at her with a happy smile, and said, “Well over one hundred thousand dollars’ worth is sitting here in this garage.”
“How much?” she whispered.
He repeated, “One hundred thousand. It depends on what we can do. These are cherry, specially made, and that maker’s mark says they were done for a special occasion. I’ll find out how and why and for whom, but just the fact that you have all the chairs in the set … The set almost always had six or eight. You’ve got six.”
“I can’t guarantee there aren’t more in the house or in the basement,” she said.
“Good.”
After that, she wandered around in a daze as he finished up in the garage. Before going to the basement, she took him inside to the living room and the dining room, where she’d stacked up more furniture.
He pointed out the two chairs that went with the set. “Perfect. We’ll take those two as well.” He looked at the others, shrugged, and said, “I really don’t know what these are, or these, unless we can find a few more pieces of it in your basement maybe.”
He took some photos, and, just as she led him to the basement through the double doors connecting the two rooms, she got a beep that another text had arrived. She looked at it. Mack. She called him and said, “Hey, Scott’s here. We’re going through the stuff in the garage and the house, about to take him into the basement.”
“Does it look good?”
“No,” she said, “it looks freaking fantastic. And I still want to know more about the footprints.”
He groaned.
“You know what? I’ll just go to the library and waste hours and hours looking this stuff up.”
“I’ll give you what was released to the press,” he said, “but that’s it. The child was never found.”
“Really? No body?”
“None.”
“Send what you can to me,” she said, “and I’ll give you any further details from here, but I’ve got to go.” She hung up on him, and, with Scott’s quizzical face, she smiled and said, “Just a case I’m helping the police out on.”
She led the way down the stairs to the basement where the rest of the furniture was stored. Scott stopped halfway down and exclaimed in amazement. She pointed to the far back corner where the tallboy was. “I can’t guarantee it’s what you’re looking for,” she said cautiously, “but I’m hoping it’s the missing piece from the set you took out of here.”
He beelined for it and stood several feet away, studying it for a long moment. Then he turned happily and looked at her and said, “You remember how we checked?”
