She opened a door and disappeared.
Nina sneaked back inside.
I hissed at her again. “Get out of there!”
Wong came running up the stairs, each footstep pounding. She breathed heavily. “Nina Reid Norwood, leave the premises now. It’s officially a crime scene. Go, go, go!” She pointed to the door. “And don’t touch anything on your way out.”
“Abby is in the basement?” I asked.
Wong nodded. “Somebody is. I popped open the freezer and found toes.”
“Toes? Like . . .” I swallowed hard “Chopped off?”
“Eww, no. They appear to be attached to a foot. I didn’t move anything. It’s in one of those chest freezers. I expect the entire body is inside.”
“It must be Abby,” breathed Nina.
I nodded. “I would think so.”
Wong sighed and shook her head. “What is wrong with people?” She looked at us, and her mouth pulled into a straight line. “Now that this has changed from a wellness check to a crime scene, I’m afraid you two have to depart. I’ve called it in. The place will be swarming with cops in a couple of minutes.”
“Poor Abby,” I whispered.
It was totally dark behind Abby’s house. Especially now that our phone batteries had run down and our phone flashlights had died. We were relying on the moon and ambient city light to make our way out to the street. Someone walked around the corner, which caused Nina and me to scream.
A strong flashlight beam caught us. Thankfully, we recognized the male voice that said, “Not you two.”
Daisy whined, and her wagging tail smacked my legs as she greeted Wolf Fleishman of the Criminal Investigations Division of the Alexandria Police. Wolf patted Daisy, whom he knew well because we had dated.
I gave him a break about his sarcastic comment. After all, Nina and I had been involved in solving several murders.
The silver in Wolf’s brown hair gleamed as the light from Wong’s flashlight briefly hit it. It appeared that he had lost some weight. Like me, Wolf was fond of good food. One year, determined to lose weight, we had grown a vegetable garden together in my backyard.
Nina raised her free palm in protest. “We didn’t even know her! But I wish we had. She seemed like a fun person.”
“Who is she?” Wolf shot the beam from his flashlight around Abby’s backyard.
“Abby Bergeron,” I said. “She was ghostwriting a book for Tilly Stratford, but she unexpectedly quit on Friday. Her neighbor says Abby’s indoor cat turned up at her place on Friday night, so that’s probably around the time she was murdered.”
“How do you know she was murdered?” Wolf’s back was to me and he was tilting his head to get a better look at the cat collar hanging on the tree branch.
“I’ve never heard of anyone dying a natural death in a freezer surrounded by food.”
Despite the darkness, when he turned to look at me, I caught his surprised expression, which was saying a lot. I had often been frustrated by Wolf’s ability to hide his emotions. “Where’s the freezer?”
“In the basement.”
Wolf grunted. “Okay. I know where to find you. Get out of my crime scene.”
Daisy led the way through the passage to the sidewalk. A second police vehicle pulled up as we walked toward Eunice’s house.
“I’d like to tell Eunice what’s going on if that’s okay with you,” I said to Nina.
“Sure.” Nina shook her head. “It’s so sad. We didn’t even know Abby, but I still feel a loss. She was probably about our age. It could have been one of us!”
Eunice was standing in her doorway, holding onto a cane and watching the police who were arriving. “What’s going on? Did you find Abby?” She stepped aside and motioned for us to come in.
A large long-haired black and orange tortoiseshell cat with green eyes meowed at us as we walked in.
“That’s Abby’s cat, Oscar.” She shook her finger at the cat. “Hush now and behave,” she said to him.
I was about to introduce Eunice to Nina when they hugged. “I haven’t seen you at the shelter lately,” said Nina.
Eunice nodded and tapped her cane on the hardwood floor. “As you can tell, I’m not getting around as much as I used to. That’s the one place I miss. I find I don’t care about seeing people, but those sweet babies need and deserve help.”
A completely white cat walked up to Daisy without a qualm, and they touched noses.
Nina, Daisy, and I followed Eunice into a large living room, where I counted seven more kitties. Daisy stayed close to me but didn’t seem distressed by the presence of so many cats.
Eunice slowly sat down in a recliner. From the looks of it, I suspected that she slept there, too. The elegant living room with a marble surround on the fireplace had turned into an all-purpose room for Eunice.
A table next to her chair contained lotions, a clock with extra large numbers, tissues, a Bible, a laptop computer, and a couple of bags of cat treats. I could see into the kitchen, where little had been put away in cabinets. The counters and floor were covered with boxes and bags of food. Cans of cat food cluttered the counters, too. I assumed that the bags of dry cat food on the floor were too heavy for her to lift.
As gently as I could, I asked, “Eunice, do you have anyone who comes to help you?”
“No!” she barked. “I don’t need any help. I’m not a doddering old fool yet. My cleaning lady, Lula, comes over once a month and we have a grand old time catching up on gossip.”
From the looks of things, Lula wasn’t doing much in the way of cleaning. I could understand wanting to keep things close at hand, but Eunice would be tripping over the mess on the floor fairly soon if someone didn’t straighten things up for her.
“What’s going on over there at Abby’s place?” Eunice asked. “I can’t imagine it’s good news, or all those police cars wouldn’t be pulling up.”
My eyes met Nina’s. “I’m sorry, Eunice. It appears that Abby has died. We don’t know for sure that it’s Abby, but it’s not very likely that it would be someone else.”
Eunice pulled a tissue out of the box and wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. “It’s just not right when a young person goes too soon. I knew something was wrong over there. What happened to her?”
“We don’t know yet, Eunice,” said Nina. “But we think she may have been killed about the time her cat showed up at your house.”
“Killed?” Eunice’s eyes widened. “Mercy! Right next door? I thought you meant she had fallen or taken ill. Someone murdered my sweet Abby?”
“I’m afraid so,” I said gently.
“So that’s why Oscar came to me. How’d he get out? Abby was so careful and adamant about him being a house cat.”
“The sliding glass door in the back was unlocked,” I explained. “Maybe he made a dash for it when someone opened the door to check on Abby?”
“Or perhaps her killer was a cat lover,” Eunice observed. “How odd. Cat people are usually very kind.”
Her comment caught me by surprise. Had Abby’s killer opened the door for the cat? Suddenly the collar hanging on the bush seemed more sinister than bizarre. Why would someone remove Oscar’s collar? I wondered how many murderers took the time to close doors. A killer would probably be in a state of panic and rush to leave. Maybe it was commonplace that doors were left open after a murder. In fact, that might be a clue to her killer. Most strangers wouldn’t know where the keys were and would have to leave a door unlocked. That indicated the murderer wasn’t someone who was close to her.