Old Bones

1. Old Bones and New Neighbors-3

I turned to look at him. He filled up almost the entire back seat. That’s when I realized that Buddy wasn’t in the car.

No Buddy.

“Hey, lady, is that your dog? What’s he doing in my cruiser?” said a tall blond man wearing blue jeans and a puffy navy-blue bomber jacket as he walked to the black car.

“Heather. Heather!” I heard Manda calling me. Her voice was getting louder and louder. Finally she was yelling.

Great. I quickly prioritized the calls. Police first. Then the friend, then Buddy. Hopefully Manda has Buddy.

“Lady, I asked you if that’s your dog and why you put him in my police car?”

“Ah, hello, officer. No, it’s not my dog. He ran away from my new neighbor, Joy, and he’s been leading us on a crazy chase,” I said, looking for Joy to give some validity to my statement.

“Ryan, is that you?” asked Joy as she approached us.

“Aunt Joy? I might have known it was Kirby,” said the tall blond officer with a grin.

“Good thinking, Heather. One thing that Kirby loves is going for a car ride,” said Joy, smiling. “Oh, by the way, Heather…” Her voice trailed off when she obviously couldn’t remember my full name. She indicated the blond police officer with a nod of her head.

“Ross, my name is Heather Ross,” I said, helping her out.

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Yes. Heather Ross, may I introduce my nephew, Ryan Falcon. He’s the pride and joy of the family. He just made detective.”

Joy opened the back door of the car and told Kirby to sit as she blocked the door with her body. He sat and she clipped the leash onto his collar.

“Excuse me, Detective Falcon. There’s a dog digging in your crime scene and I think it’s got one of the bones,” said one of the uniformed officers.

I realized I had been hearing all kinds of noise in the background and finally stopped to identify them. There were people laughing and others yelling. Some were even whistling and calling.

I stopped, took a deep breath, closed my eyes as I turned toward the empty lot, then slowly opened them.

I saw a dozen of my neighbors about one hundred feet away from me, all bundled up in heavy coats. Half were looking at a hole dug in the lot they were working in, the other half were looking at me. I smiled at them.

Yep, I could hear Manda and Betty calling, “Buddy. Buddy! Come here.”

I knew Buddy wouldn’t come to them. Unless, of course, they had a cookie; then it might be worth his while to obey them. He was a cairn terrier after all, and that’s a special breed of dog; or maybe it was just Buddy that was so special.

“Excuse me, Detective Falcon. I’ll be right back,” I said. I strode to where a shallow pit had been dug and the body had been found.

And there he was. My Buddy. I could see his back and tail through a cloud of dirt as he frantically tried to free a bone the size of his body.

Okay, here comes the test. All those years of obedience training—will they pay off? I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag containing liver training treats. Like American Express, I never leave home without them.

Somehow I had to get Buddy to come to me. He had his leash attached to his collar so I knew if I could get him close I could either pick it up or step on it to grab it.

I got myself ready. I knew I only had one chance. Buddy learned quickly. He was smart and sneaky. I lifted my head, chin up, squared my shoulders, and stood as tall as I could manage. I told myself when I call Buddy, he will come.

“Buddy, come.” I ordered in my best no-nonsense voice. Then I whistled.

Buddy stopped digging and looked up, his ears up and alert. He looked at me standing by the sidewalk next to a tall cherry tree.

I whistled again and held up a treat so he could see.

It worked. Buddy came running right toward me, his little pink tongue sticking out and his eyes bright. He moved as fast as his little legs could go. At that moment I was so proud of him and all the hard work we had done together.

He ran right up to me and sat down in front of me. I nodded to him, leaned down and picked up his leash, then gave him his treat.

“Good boy, Buddy. You’re the best,” I said as he sat and watched me.

There was never a doubt in my mind he would come for me, especially when a treat was involved.

I had made it a point in training him to always give him a treat when I whistled. I didn’t use the whistle very often. Usually only in an important I-need-you-to-come-right-now situation. And it paid off.

As the trainer at the Community Center said, “This is nothing to fool around with. You need a command he knows you will honor, and also a release word he knows is from you. It’s a matter of trust and not just obedience.”

“Mrs. Ross?”

I turned toward the voice to discover Ryan Falcon standing behind me. Now it was my turn to apologize for using his car as a dog trap. I sure hope Joy will help me explain it to him.

I looked up, way up, and tried to meet his eyes. Which was a little difficult since he was more than a foot taller than me.

I smiled at the young police detective. “Please call me Heather. It’s really a pleasure to meet you.” I held my hand out for him to shake.

Joy appeared with a soft grin on her face as she stood next to Ryan and watched as I introduced myself.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Joy had a firm grip on Kirby’s collar.

I stood with my hand extended, looking into Ryan Falcon’s deep azure eyes. His mouth was set in a stern, straight line and I could see his jaw was clenched.

Okay, this was starting to get embarrassing. I guess his parents didn’t teach him proper manners. Or he was really so angry at me he wouldn’t shake my hand.

I wondered if Buddy or Kirby made a mess in his car.

Oh dear. My mouth went dry and my stomach clenched as I started to drop my hand to my side. Okay, I decided I was going to have to change tactics and take a look at the inside of the car to determine how bad the damage was.

Suddenly, Falcon smiled and reached for my hand. He firmly grasped it and gave it three warm, friendly shakes.

“Almost had you, didn’t I?” he said as his eyes lit up with amusement.

“Oh, come on now,” I started to laugh with him and shook my head at his abrupt change in attitude.

“Admit it, Heather, he’s a pretty good actor,” said Joy as she joined in the fun with a big smile that started at her lips and ended in her eyes. “You ought to see him do the good cop, bad cop routine. He has ’em really sweating.”

“Thanks all the same, but I think I’ll forgo that little pleasure,” I said with a chuckle. I turned back to gaze into the pit and remembered the reason we were all gathered here.

“Buddy didn’t disturb any evidence did he?”

“No, the coroner had just left with the remains when the littler guy jumping in,” said Ryan. “I think he was pulling on an old tree root that still had the smell of the bones on it. Thank goodness Buddy’s timing was just a little bit off and nothing was damaged,” added Ryan.

I nodded my head as all three of us, with the two dogs in tow, went close to the shallow pit.

Actually there were two shallow pits, a large one probably for the main house and another one probably for a double garage. The smaller one, for the garage, was where the old bones had been found.

Joy stood next to me and looked intently at what might be a crime scene. I pulled out the camera I had shoved in my pocket before we left and started to take pictures of the pit. I zoomed in for some close-ups, then I took pictures of the house and the lot as well as the street and the boulevard.

I could use my imagination and put the bones in the hole for my story. Even if I didn’t use this lot for the novel I was working on, I could use it for another one in the future.

“What do you think happened?” Joy asked me.

“I don’t know. I understand from the gossip they are very old bones. So I guess they’ve been here for a while,” I said.

“I better get back to the station, Aunt Joy,” said Ryan. “You won’t be needing the car to catch any more dogs this morning will you, Heather?” He grinned at me and my cheeks grew warm.

“No, thanks. I think I’m good for now.” I nodded to him. He turned away and got into his unmarked car, started the engine, and drove away.

“I wonder,” said Joy softly.

“Manda,” I called to my neighbor when I spotted her standing with Betty on the other side of the hole.

Manda smiled at me, then said something to Betty, who nodded, and they made their way toward me around the police tape.

“Okay, what did you guys see? I need all the details,” I asked, scanning their serious expressions.

“Well, there is obviously a mystery here. Someone has been killed. I don’t think this was the site of a family gravesite. If so, it would be odd to only have one body in it. It really all depends on how old the body is, and if they can tell if the person died of natural causes or not,” said Manda, starting the conversation.

“Would they call all of these police if they didn’t expect it to be a murder?” I asked.

I looked at the police officers as they took down most of the yellow crime scene tape, except for the immediate site of the garage, and then all got into their vehicles and left.

“Unfortunately, these old crimes don’t usually get solved. People and witnesses have since died or moved away. It’s really hard to solve,” said Joy as we started to walk home together.

I nodded at Joy’s reasoning. It was quite logical. But now I had a real problem. I would need to solve the crime before I could use it in my book.

“Nothing I like better than a good, old-fashioned murder mystery. Don’t you?” she said as she tugged Kirby’s leash to encourage him to follow her.

“Funny you mention that. I’m a mystery writer and yes, there is nothing I like better than a good murder mystery. Especially one that hasn’t been solved or told yet,” I explained.

“Ah, then you must be a writer looking for a good story. Good thing, because I love a good puzzle and I’m very good at solving them,” said Joy with confidence in her voice.

“Really?” I said my hopes rising a little.

Perhaps this would be a very good friendship after all. I’m naturally curious and ask questions, and she likes to solve puzzles. It was a match made in heaven.

“Well, what do you say? Shall we investigate our first little mystery?” Joy grinned at me.

“I do hope it is a murder,” I said. “It would be perfect for my next book. If that would be all right with you?”

“Excellent. I know just where we can start, too. I’ll have my sister and her husband and the rest of their brood over for dinner this Saturday. Would you and your husband like to come over as well?”

I thought this was a strange turn of topics until I realized that she must be talking about Police Detective Ryan’s parents.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” I nodded.

I planned to get detailed maps of the neighborhood, maybe one from the library going back about fifty and then thirty years, to see what the area had looked like.

I could get old telephone books too, which would give me the names of the people living in the area, then sort out the relationships. It was quite common for people immigrating to settle in family groups close to each other.

Once I got the maps and telephone books, I’d have enough to start the first chapter of my new book.

My book would be a fiction, of course, but based on reality. That way I could make stuff up once I got all the bones of the story down.

“What can we bring?’ I asked Joy as we started walking up the street with the dogs and the rest of my friends.

I knew all my old friends would really enjoy Joy. I had a very strong feeling she would fit in fine with the rest of us. We each had special skills besides walking dogs and gardening.

“A green salad would be lovely. By then, Ryan should have the coroner’s report, too. That will give us a really good place to start,” Joy said as she turned and went into her house.

Joy’s new house was a thirty-year-old Vancouver Special. It had a level entrance; two floors with a tiny deck out front and a good-sized one in the back; and there were three bedrooms up and one full bath, and an en suite and walk-in closet in the master bedroom. The downstairs had a huge family room, a bathroom, a room for a guest bedroom, and an office. There was major renovation done by the last owner; that’s why it had a walk-in closet and an en suite, but they had sacrificed the hall closet. The basement would need a complete overhaul.

I had been invited by their real estate person and gone to the open house. The new pitch was, “do you have anyone, friends or family, that would like this house and this neighborhood? This is your chance to have some say on who your neighbors are.”

Everyone I know is retiring and that house is way too big for two people; it is over twenty-five hundred square feet.

It was okay, but the outside had cream-colored vinyl siding downstairs and faux red brick upstairs, and the useless deck drove me crazy. Either tear it off or do something with it.

I was stressed about the book I had to write. There was a tension knot between my shoulders. I rotated my shoulders, loosening them. I knew I would be just fine, that I would meet my book deadline. I had a very strong positive feeling about Joy. I wondered what she did for a living? I hadn’t had a chance to ask her.

I thought I’d ask her over to my place for a cup of tea tomorrow afternoon.

Then I smiled to myself as my imagination took flight. Now I wasn’t just working on this new book but a whole series of books. A whole village. No wonder my poor little subconscious and I were tired.

I pulled back my imagination before I got too carried away. I know, too late; but I cleared my mind and focused. First write this book and make it the best I could. Then work on the second one.

Do one thing at a time.

But the idea did appeal to me. A series of mystery books that take place in a neighborhood in Vancouver and the outlying area; it really inspired me.

Another thought occurred to me. I wondered if my current neighbors knew anything about this murder? Some of them had lived on this street for a very long time—some even had family, now passed, that had lived here, too.

“Tea. Heather, where are you? Zoning out again?” asked Manda as she and Betty came up our front stairs with me. “How is that new book you’re working on?”

“Yes, tea, of course. Let’s hear about Manda’s trip to India.” I asked as I opened the door and offered my friends a tight-lipped smile.

We usually had tea at my place after our walks; it had become part of our routine.

“Do you have pictures?” Betty asked as we all came into the foyer.

Tom had forgotten to lock the door anyway. Oh, well, I guess we’re going to have to work on our communication skills a little more even after all these years of marriage.

I made mental notes to talk to Tom about the dinner invitation and to invite Joy for tea. Yes, there were definitely going to be interesting times ahead. I could hardly wait.