Jimmy put down his coffee cup. “I’ll find him. He’s too cantankerous for anything to have happened to him.”
Diane nodded jerkily. “I’ll get dressed and come help.”
Kay gave me a quick nod. “Francie and I will help, too.”
I disappeared when out of sight from the terrace. I floated above The Castle grounds. The heat was already building. Though it was early, I judged the temperature to be in the high eighties, which augured one-hundred-plus degrees by midafternoon. Heavenly residents find whatever climate they enjoy, from deserts to polar ice caps. Bobby Mac and I lazed away cheerful days in sparkling bays reminiscent of the Caribbean, but, at this moment, I took delight in the Oklahoma summer. I skimmed above the trees and kept a sharp eye for the old dog.
In the distance, I heard Jimmy whistling and calling: “Hey, Walter. Where are you, you decrepit old reprobate. Found a lady somewhere? Come home, buddy.”
Suddenly I heard a faint yipping.
I swooped down as Jimmy came around the corner of The Castle. He was grinning as he walked to the workshop. He opened the door and Walter burst out, barking in a frenzy. The cocker wobbled around Jimmy, nipped toward his hand, then turned and pelted unevenly toward the house.
The old dog strove mightily but he was slow, hampered by an arthritic back leg. Laughing, Jimmy caught up with him. Jimmy reached down, grabbed him up. “How’d you get in the workshop? Dumb old dog. Mom’s frantic. Come on, stop wriggling, I’m taking you in.”
Before Jimmy came around the corner of the house, I dropped down by the back door and appeared.
Kay jogged up, her eyes darting nervously around. “What if somebody saw you do that?”
I wasn’t worried. “So they didn’t see me for a minute. Now I’m here.”
Kay held the door for Jimmy.
Walter squirmed, trying to get down. He snuffled and quivered, his rheumy eyes bleary.
Jimmy carried him through the kitchen and into the main hallway. “Hey, Mom. Walter got trapped in the workshop.”
Diane hurried to the top of the stairs. “I was just going to come down and help. I’m so glad you found him.”
Jimmy carried the dog upstairs and placed him on the floor. “Here he is. No worse for the wear.”
Walter trotted toward Diane.
Beaming, she picked him up and buried her face in golden fur, murmuring.
Suddenly the dog stiffened. He yipped, his tone high and shrill.
“Walter…”
The cocker wriggled free and dropped to the floor.
Diane called him, “Come here, you bad dog.” But she wasn’t scolding him. Her tone was loving and indulgent. “Come back here, Walter. Tell Mother where you’ve been.” Her voice faded as they moved away from the top of the stairs.
Jimmy grinned at us. “She’d be a lot more upset if something happened to Walter than to me.” But there was affection and good humor in his voice. “As dog rescuers, we deserve fresh coffee.” He turned to go back to the dining room.
“Walter!” Diane’s cry was sharp. “Come back. Their door’s ajar. Don’t push! Walter, stop that.” There was a strangled sound and then a high scream.
Jimmy swerved around Kay and me. He reached the stairs, took the steps two at a time.
Kay and I raced after him.
Diane stood at the far end of the hall near a partially open door. She was trembling. “There’s blood…there’s blood everywhere.”
The door to Laverne and Ronald Phillips’s room was partially open. Blood had pooled in a dark splotch just over the threshold into the hallway.
I glanced back. Only Kay was behind me. I disappeared.
Inside the bedroom, I felt as if I’d slammed into a wall. I wouldn’t follow Ronald Phillips today. His body kept the door from fully opening. He lay on his back, skin flaccid and grayish. Dark splotches stained his once-white T-shirt. His temple was disfigured as well. I suspected a gun had been held only inches away and the trigger pulled.
I hovered above the bed.
Laverne lay on her back. Blood had seeped into the pillows and the bedclothes. She appeared to have been shot in her sleep. Had she awakened, groggy from pills, at the rapid staccato of gunfire? I suspected the attack had been sudden, Ronald shot down, then swift movement to the bed and the gun trained on her.
“They’re dead.” Diane’s cry rose from the hallway. “They’re dead!” She clung to her son’s arm.
Jimmy stared into the bedroom, his young face pale with shock. “Walter.” His voice was shaky. He reached out, snagged the cocker’s collar, pulled him into the hall. Smears of blood stained the floor. He lifted the struggling cocker, held him against his chest, then slid an arm around his mother’s shoulders as she began to sob.
I returned to the hall. I glanced toward the stairs and saw no one. I was behind Diane and Jimmy and Kay. I appeared.
Kay took two swift steps, gazed into the room. She drew in a sharp breath. “They’ve been killed.” Her voice was grim. She pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her slacks and punched 911.
Jimmy turned his mother away from the room. He still held the struggling Walter. “We’ll wait for the police downstairs. Come on, Mom.” He gave Kay a commanding glance. “Close the door.”
Kay moved quickly, pulled the door shut.
Evelyn waited at the foot of the stairs, worry and fear clear in the drawn lines of her face. Margo and Shannon stood a few feet behind her.
Diane sobbed. “Someone’s killed Laverne and Ronald. There’s blood all over their room.”
Jimmy nodded at his aunt. “Laverne and Ronald are dead. It has to be murder. The police are coming.”
On the main floor, with an apologetic glance, I slipped into the guest lavatory. I regretted that I’d succumbed to the lure of fashion this morning. I couldn’t at this point change to a frumpier costume, but I added oversize harlequin-frame sunglasses and a green kerchief to cover my hair, then returned.
“The police are coming.” Kay spoke quietly. “Possibly we should wait in the drawing room.”
Evelyn led the way. She walked to a Queen Anne chair, sank onto it. Diane huddled on a sofa, shaking, words tumbling. Jimmy paced by the fireplace. Margo and Shannon sat side by side on a bench, their expressions shocked and frightened.
Margo asked abruptly, “Are you sure—”
Jimmy interrupted. “They’re dead and covered with blood.”
Shannon gave a cry.
He started to walk toward her, then shook his head, resumed his quick steps up and down, up and down in front of the fireplace.
The police arrived within five minutes, sirens blaring. Chief Cobb paused in the archway. “Is everyone in the household here?” His gray suit already looked rumpled.
Evelyn wasn’t as majestic as usual. She took a deep breath and nodded, big-boned face bleak.
“Remain here.” It was an order, not a request. “Officer Cain will be in charge. Officer, take everyone’s name.” The chief swung away, moving fast for a big man.
I well remembered young and handsome Johnny Cain. His coal black hair was newly cut, his deep blue eyes alert and intelligent. I hoped he wouldn’t recall the redhead he’d glimpsed at Lulu’s when I was in Adelaide for the Christmas holiday. Of course, on that particular day, I’d worn a particularly flattering jade green blouse and slacks, which emphasized the sheen of my hair. Possibly today was the first time in either my earthly or Heavenly existence that I perceived a negative aspect of red hair. Truly, once glimpsed, the coppery gleam of my hair is difficult to forget.
Morning sunlight slanted across the Aubusson carpet, its colors faded a dusty rose and pale gold from years of exposure. Each person sat in an island of silence. Johnny Cain moved from one to another. When he reached me, his expression was curious. I could have told him it was déjà vu all over again. Instead, I gave my name in a sibilant mutter and hunched my head to one side as if I had a stiff neck.
When his task was done, he waited near the archway.