Page 104 of The Body in the Backyard
“Hang on,” Riley said, clicking on a photo to enlarge it. “I think I’ve got something.”
“Lemme see.” Mrs. Penny pried her feet off the desk and toddled around to Riley’s side.
“This is from the local paper about a fundraising dinner for an animal rescue last spring. It’s Ingram and his date, Laurel Shellen.”
“She looks like she’s thirty years younger than him,” Mrs. Penny said, squinting through her bifocals.
Riley typed Laurel’s name into the social media search engine. “Aha! Here she is. She lives in Harrisburg, and look at her profile picture.”
“Huh. Girl’s got some big teeth,” Mrs. Penny noted.
“Not her perfectly normal-size teeth. Herdogs,” Riley said, tapping her screen.
Mrs. Penny studied the picture, then examined the puddle of dogs under the desk. “Well, I’ll be damned! Let’s go interrogate a witness!”
“We’re not interrogating?—”
The doorbell rang, and a tidal wave of barking dogs shoved Riley and her chair back from the desk.
“You gonna get that?” Mrs. Penny asked.
Rubbing her abused shins, Riley followed the dogs to the front door and opened it. “Mom?”
Riley’s mother and sister were standing on the front porch. Blossom had that unnaturally shiny, perky look on her face that meant she was upset about something.
“Hi, sweetie! Your sister and I were just in the neighborhood,” Blossom said, bustling into the foyer. “We thought we’d come over and see if you needed any help organizing your kitchen or maybe mulching your flower beds for winter. Oooh! Or we could watch a movie. Who’s up forBridges of Madison County?”
Wander glided inside after their mother.Fighting,she mouthed to Riley.
“Ah.”
When Riley’s parents had their one big blowup fight every three or four years, Blossom pretended everything was wonderful while coolly ignoring Roger. She would show up on a daughter’s doorstep with a demand for quality time, and if that daughter didn’t immediately comply, she’d drop the Blossom Basil-Thorn guilt trip.
“Of course, I’ll understand if you’re too busy to spend time with your discarded old crone of a mother.” Blossom sank to the floor to greet the dogs that scrabbled at her wide-legged corduroy pants. “At leastyoulove your grandma, don’t you, Burtie boy? And who are your friends?”
“You have more dogs than usual,” Wander observed as she trailed Riley a few feet away for a whispered sister conference.
“I’m about to return them to their rightful owner. What are they fighting about this time?” Riley asked. The last fight had been over GPS directions. Blossom had moved in with Wander for almost a week.
“From what I could discern when I dropped the girls off with Dad, it’s the chickens. One of them pecked Daisy too aggressively according to Dad.”
Riley had a lightning-quick vision of her father standing between his cow and the advancing chickens, yelling, “Beak-faced bullies!”
“Oh boy.”
“I hate to do this to you when you already have a full house of characters, but not it,” Wander said, bringing her finger to her nose. “I can’t survive Mom staying with me for another week of pretend quality time. We just kicked off Gratitude Month at the yoga studio, River has basketball, Rain is hosting her Ruth Bader Ginsberg Dissent Club dinner this week, and Janet has three birthday parties.”
Wander took a deep breath, then winced. Riley guessed it was probably the lingering psychic scent of murder victim tickling at her nostrils.
This was as panicked as her yogic breathing sister got.
“I betyouthree like chickens, don’t you?” Blossom cooed, squishing Burt’s face between her hands.
The two little dogs yapped excitedly.
Riley sighed. At this point, she and Nick were practically running a fifty-five-plus community for the unhinged. What was one more? “Say no more. It’s my turn for any overnights.”
“Maybe we can put things back together tonight before we start moving her in,” Wander offered.
