A Binding Chance

Chapter 5

After Jane Jackson was taken to the station, the police reopened Copper Street. Most of them left soon after. Onlookers dismissed themselves as they went about their day, probably spreading the word about Doris Hackett’s death as they went. I was sure by dinner time every person and child would have heard the news.

Underwood and a few officers stayed behind, finishing their last tasks. My dad’s friend informed me that Teresa’s Bookstore was a crime scene and would remain closed until the sheriff cleared it. I couldn’t get an answer on when that might be. From what I knew from Dad and Stone and novels, it could take days.

I worried about the cats. If my roommate wasn’t allergic to them they would’ve been coming home with me. Grandma and Stone could watch Princess, but after Butterscotch hissed at Grandma once they were too nervous about taking her under their care, even temporarily.

“What can I do with the cats?” I asked Underwood after explaining they didn’t have anywhere to go.

He pondered for a moment. “Is there a room they can stay in? Preferably upstairs.”

A burden lifted off my chest. “Yes.”

Underwood made a quick phone call and allowed me inside to tend to their needs, under his supervision. Two remaining officers were packing up what I thought was a fingerprint kit. The case closed before I could see for sure. They looked relieved to see me. Right away, I knew why.

“We did our best,” one of the officers said to Underwood. “Last I saw, it was over there.” He pointed toward the back part of the store.

It had to be Princess, the black and white cat. She didn’t respect bubble space. According to the two police officer’s conversation with Underwood, they had struggled to keep her away from the crime scene. One claimed Princess had jumped on Doris’s body before scurrying upstairs, only to return a minute later. Thankfully, after that point, she had stayed out of reach, hovering on top of the bookshelves.

“That damn cat is messing up my crime scene,” Sheriff Estep bellowed behind me.

I jumped at his sudden voice. It wasn"t as deep as Underwood’s, but the sharpness behind it startled me. I thought he left to take Jane to the station. Clearly, he must have ordered someone else to do the job.

“Get moving.” He snapped his fingers. The officers quickly grabbed their kits and scurried out, leaving me with the sheriff and deputy. Then he snapped in front of my face. “That includes you too, missy.”

“Don’t call me missy,” I said. Part of Southern Charm was to use nicknames, but I could tell the sheriff was using it as a slight.

Sheriff Estep snapped his fingers again to get moving.

I had an urge to say something but held back. Movement caught my eye. I spotted Princess walking along a bookshelf. Too bad she stepped around the small figurines rather than knocking them onto Estep’s head

“Princess,” I called. She stopped and cast her big yellow eyes down on us. Her back half started wiggling. “Come on.” Then, like a typical cat, she changed her mind by rubbing her head on the shelf.

The sheriff huffed.

I reached both hands out. “Come on, Princess,” I cooed.

“Just grab her,” Sheriff Estep ordered.

I inhaled a deep breath, restraining myself from speaking my mind. There wasn’t much a five-two-foot woman could do against an eight-foot bookshelf. If Estep wasn’t already upset and a sheriff, then I might have explained the simple math problem.

I kindly raised my tone. “Princess.” The cat got into a pounce position. I was about to call for her again when the sheriff hollered at Underwood for assistance. Princess jumped and the ten-pound cat landed in my arms. She nearly leaped out of my grasp. I tightened my arms around her while making sure that I didn’t hurt her. Princess started purring.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” I said to her.

“Where are you going?” Sheriff Estep barked.

Since the back staircase was closer, I naturally headed there. Otherwise, I would have to weave through the front area, into the romance/horror room, and up the main staircase. By the time I registered what Estep was saying, I was standing in the bargain room’s entrance.

The area had always felt constricted. Books squeezed on the shelves. Chairs sat at the end of two of the narrow aisles. Tucked in the corner was a fake plant that needed to be tossed out since Princess had clawed most of its leaves. The large room often made customers feel claustrophobic, one of many reasons for the remodel. By removing part of the second floor, the store would be spacious.

Now the bargain room looked as if a tornado touched down. Books scattered in one aisle, as if someone ran their hand down the shelves knocking all the books onto the floor. Hardcover novels crushed paperbacks, bending their spines, while others flapped open with newly bent pages. Only Princess was small enough to weave around this mess. The sight made me cringe. All my hard work to make it tidy had gone out the window. It would take a solid week to clean and reorganize this room. Time I no longer had.

“How did this happen?” I demanded, facing Sheriff Estep. When I had found Doris, there had been about ten books around her feet. Now there were three times as many.

“That cat,” Sheriff Estep pointed at Princess. “Officers were trying to catch her. That rodent destroyed my crime scene.”

rodentThankfully, they didn’t catch Princess, I thought. “If you had gotten me none of this would have happened.”

Thankfully, they didn’t catch Princess,Sheriff Estep finally removed his sunglasses. He had smooth, rounded cheeks and bright blue eyes that narrowed at me. It took a lot of willpower to not smile at his baby face. He almost looked too adorable to be taken seriously. Or to be a sheriff.

“I know who you are, missy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ugh, I hate that nickname.

Ugh, I hate that nickname“Just because you’re a Stone doesn’t give you power or authority to speak to me like that.”

I didn’t know how to respond, other than a snarky remark. Words would definitely get me into trouble. Too bad Underwood didn’t tell him about respecting a Stone. I considered stealing Underwood’s motto when the sheriff continued.

“As a Stone I expected better from you.”

“I just want to help,” I said, easing my tone.

Sheriff Estep studied me. His head tilted. I felt him zeroing on my wrist tattoo— an open book with teal and purple smoke floating upward. Teresa said the colors matched my platinum hair. Based on Estep"s narrowed expression, I probably looked like a silly bookworm, who loves cats and knows nothing about the real world.

“If I want your help, then I’ll ask,” he said, slowly. “Right now, I want that cat upstairs and locked up.”

I looked away, biting back words. Just when I was about to head for the main staircase, I noticed a speck of pink against the faded green carpet. I stared at it, trying to figure out what I was seeing.

“Is that a pill?” I asked aloud.

Sheriff Estep and Deputy Underwood leaned over for a closer look. While Underwood lingered on it, the sheriff shrugged, and then looked back at me as if he wondered why I wasn’t moving.

“That wasn’t here this morning,” I said. “I vacuumed.”

“With that vacuum?” Sheriff Estep pointed toward the front of the store.

I nodded.

He scoffed. “That thing is older than my granny. That thing probably can’t even pick up a dust bunny.”

I couldn’t disagree. The vacuum cleaner had outlived its glory days. However, if Teresa was here, she would argue that it still got the job done. Sometimes.

“That pill wasn’t here before,” I said.

“Teresa owned a lot of junk. It’s probably been here for months. If not years,” he muttered the last part, glancing into the bargain room.

“I know Teresa’s mess and that isn’t part of it.”

His face turned hard. Baby-face wasn’t funny anymore. “Right now, missy, I want that cat out of my sight,” he yelled into my face.

Princess hissed and swatted at him. Too bad she missed.

Underwood stepped in before a real catfight broke out. The deputy kindly led me by my elbow toward the front of the store and upstairs. While Dad’s friend and former co-worker escorted me away, I took in some deep breaths. This was a murder investigation, I reminded myself. I couldn’t get mad at the police for mistreating books and being in a grumpy mood, but I wouldn’t forget how Sheriff Estep treated everyone.

I turned my focus to the cats. They needed me now more than ever. For now, they had to stay in a designated room upstairs. Butterscotch never minded being in the Cat’s Lounge, as Teresa called it. The tortie cat would jump in her window bed, and curl up for a long nap, perfectly content being in there all day. Princess, on the other hand, might struggle. The nosy cat loved roaming freely and going wherever the action led her. Teresa spoiled the cats rotten. She bought them more toys and beds than two felines need. Novels that were too damaged to sell, she stacked them in towers for them to play. “Cats love books too,” Teresa had said when I saw her making the stacks. In other words, “I don’t have the heart to throw them away, so the cats can have them.”

It took me a few minutes to fill their food and water dishes, clean the litter box, and most importantly, make sure Princess was in Cat’s Lounge. Before leaving, I gave them a big pile of treats. Princess must have known this was a trick. While Butterscotch scarfed the chicken flavored bites, Princess’s big yellow eyes gazed up at me.

“You’ll be okay. I’ll be back tomorrow,” I promised. I peeked over my shoulder, hoping the police would let me back inside in the morning. When Underwood nodded, I felt relief.

I closed the door behind me before Princess could dart out. I told myself she would be fine. After all, Princess had her sister and they normally slept together in the Cat’s Lounge at night.

A depressing thought hit me. Since Jane planned to sell the bookstore, the cats couldn’t live here anymore. Quickly, I shook this thought away. I needed to convince Jane to keep the store. How to accomplish that was the million-dollar question.

“Your grandpa is here,” Underwood said.

Right on cue, I heard footsteps walking down the narrow hallway as Stone approached us. Today he wore sandals, a gray T-shirt, and what people call old man shorts. He was bald by choice, giving into his age rather than fighting it with hair growth remedies. The tips of his fingers were dotted with shades of green and light brown. Smudges of green stained the bottom of his shorts as if he had tried to rub the paint off his fingers. Despite his bland clothing style, Stone’s face looked sharp as if he never retired.

“Deputy Underwood,” Stone addressed. Underwood nodded back before Stone turned his attention on me. “How are you holding up, Garnet?”

I wished Stone hadn’t left the force. He would’ve overseen Doris’s murder, and made sure Estep respected people. The current police chief, from what I’ve heard, was touring Europe for the remaining month of June. Too bad Stone couldn’t sub for him until he returned.

“I’m fine,” I answered.

Satisfied with my response, Stone turned his focus back onto Underwood. They started to discuss the case. Hearing about crimes wasn’t new. While some households talked about sports or upcoming vacation plans, the Stone household talked about criminals. Growing up with two law enforcement personnel, it became second nature to overhear ongoing cases. Now, living on my own, and the men no longer on the task force, I realized how much I missed hearing the conversations.

Underwood went over Doris’s death. He skipped over gory details, nodding in my direction. I rolled my eyes while Stone nodded for him to continue. When he concluded the story with Jane Jackson being taken to the station, Stone frowned.

For almost a full minute neither man said anything. From experience, I knew Stone was soaking in all the information, trying to see the entire picture from puzzle pieces. Stone was known for his listening skills and pondering for long lengths of time. He could teach the new sheriff a thing or two.

Then Stone held out his hand, staring at me. I sighed and concealed a whiny groan. “I promise, I’m fine. No harm came to me.”

“This is a murder investigation.” His eyes were still fixed on me. His fingers moved in a give-me gesture.

“You know, you can text or call me. I promise I’ll let you know that I’m fine.”

I’m fineStone’s expression didn’t change. One look at Underwood told me that he agreed with my grandpa.

I sighed before reaching in my back pocket and handed Stone my cell phone. We stood in silence as Stone tapped away. I knew there was no point in arguing. He would track my whereabouts one way or another. Plus, I really didn’t want to rehear stories as to why he wanted to track me. Some battles were not worth the fight. Once Stone was done, he handed back my phone.

“You can go Miss Stone,” said Underwood, “but, don’t wander too far in case we have further questions.”

While Stone approved of Underwood’s logic, I glared at them. Once a policeman, always a policeman.

Once a policeman, always a policeman.“I can take you home,” offered Stone, “or get a bite to eat.”

I waved my hand and walked around them. “No thanks. I’ll be at the bar.”

I left knowing Underwood would go into detail about the murder investigation. I crossed my fingers hoping Stone would tell me exclusive information later— like how the killer got in the store. And why did a pillow become a murder weapon rather than a knife?