I nodded and offered him my hand. “I’m Clyde Fortune; this is my nephew, Seth Proffit.”
“Clyde Fortune? The Clyde Fortune? Are you Rose Fortune’s daughter?” He looked from one eye to the other. I have two different-colored eyes, the one thing people always like to confirm for themselves upon meeting me. The left is pale blue, the right dark brown. Often people report this fact, as if I’d never looked in a mirror.
“Yes. Why?”
“My mother told me you went to Ann Arbor to join the police, but now you’re back and everyone says you’re finally going to join the family business.”
“You are? Awesome!” Seth perked up at this news.
“Andrews? Jillian is your mother?” I studied his face: thin nose, brown eyes, and dark hair. He had the height and gangly bearing of all the Andrews kids. My mother and Jillian are best friends, and I had been in school with her oldest daughter. “I probably used to babysit you. Which one are you?”
“That’s harsh, Clyde,” said Seth. He shrugged and shook his head at Officer Andrews as if to say “you can’t take her anywhere.”
A slow blush crept up from under Andrews’s uniform, spreading toward his hairline.
“Thomas. I think maybe you did babysit for us.” His shoulders slumped.
“Sorry, that came out wrong. Listen, Officer Andrews, there’s a dead woman inside.” I swung my arm in the direction of the house. “I think that’s more important than small-town gossip. And you can tell your mother I’m not going to join the family business ever.”
“Why not? It would be so cool—” Seth began.
“Not now.” I gave him my best glare, and for once it worked.
“Right, okay,” said Officer Andrews as he made a note on his pad. “Are you a friend of the deceased?”
“Sort of. I’m the dog walker.”
“The what?”
“The dog walker.” I gestured to Tuffy.
“People pay you to walk their dogs? Here? In Crystal Haven?”
I just held his gaze. No one can do that for long; the eyes creep them out.
“Huh. Okay, show me.” He sighed and pointed toward the house.
*
I didn’t know if it was the puddle of vomit by the porch or the pool of blood in the kitchen, but Officer Andrews didn’t have a strong stomach. Fortunately, he made it outside before contaminating the crime scene. He pulled himself together just as the ambulance arrived.
“I didn’t expect . . . ,” he said.
“I told them it was a murder scene on the phone.”
“Dispatch just said a body was found. I thought, you know, a heart attack. I need to get the medical examiner out here, and the homicide detective.” He began punching numbers into his phone.
“Okay, well, you know where to find me if you have any questions.”
“Ms. Fortune, please don’t tell anyone about . . .” He tilted his head toward the mess in the grass.
“It’ll be our secret.” I turned toward the car.
“Wait, I really don’t think I can let you leave yet. The detective will want to talk to you and your nephew. He’s a real stickler for details. I think you know him—Mac McKenzie?”
My head began to pound. I wasn’t ready to face Mac. I had to get out of there.
I coughed to steady my voice. “I’ve been here for an hour already. I told you everything I know. I have a list of dogs waiting for me. My clients won’t be happy if they come home to find out their animals haven’t been taken care of and have been left to their own devices.”
“But, I . . .” I could almost see the lightbulb over his head as he figured out what I meant.
“I’ll give you the list of every place I’m going today. And you have my cell phone number. I can come right back as soon as everyone gets here or as soon as you need to talk to me.”
“Well . . .” Tom watched the ambulance driver unload a gurney from the back of the truck.
“Seth, where’s that list?”
“You have it,” he said, as he and Tuffy wandered over to the cruiser.
“No, I don’t. I told you to take it off the table.” My hands found my hips of their own accord, and I realized I probably looked just like my mother.
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I—check your pockets.” I crossed my arms to keep from frisking him.
“No, you . . .” He grimaced at Tom and began rummaging in his jeans pocket. “Oh, here it is.” He handed a crumpled piece of paper to the officer.
Tom looked it over. “Archie, Molly, Roxie, MacDuff, Tuffy, Bonnie, Bear, Jewel, Crystal, and Hamlet.” He stared at us. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“What should we do with Tuffy?” Seth interrupted.
“I guess he’ll have to go to the shelter,” I said.
“The shelter! He can’t go to the shelter.” Seth bent to pick up the dog. “He just lost his person, look at him. He’s devastated. How can you put him in a shelter?”
“Now you sound like Auntie Vi. He’ll be fine. He’ll have plenty of food, which is all he cares about anyway,” I said.