Depawsit Slip (Vanessa Abbot Cat Protection League Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) by Nancy C. Davis Page B
Authors: Nancy C. Davis
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exclaimed. “He was standing next to us just a minute ago.”
“I know what I'll do,” Vanessa exclaimed. “I’ll go get one of the ambulance personnel. They’ll know what to do about this.”
She hurried outside. Depositing the cash from the Opportunity Shop would just have to wait. Dealing with a barber with a knife in his back could take a while. The cats would be climbing the walls when she got home. She raced out of the bank, but when she got to the sidewalk, she slowed down. She didn't dare approach the accident scene, not with all that broken glass and the tow truck trying to maneuver into position.
She skirted around to the ambulances. Medics, firefighters and police officers scurried in all directions. Not one of them gave her a second glance. They were too busy guiding the bus passengers over to the ambulances, wrapping them in blankets, and tending to their wounds.
Vanessa watched for a moment. What should she do? These people needed the paramedics’ attention a lot more than she and her friends in the bank did. She almost turned around and walked away when her eye fell on a man standing some distance away. He wore a tweed jacket and blue jeans. His shoulders filled out his jacket nicely, and his long legs ended in polished cowboy boots. His black hair curled away from his face and ears. She couldn’t see what color his eyes were. He scribbled in a notebook with a ball-point pen.
Vanessa would have thought he was a reporter, except that a name badge flashed from his lapel pocket. She looked closer and saw a silver star hanging next to it. She walked over to him. “Excuse me. I hate to interrupt.”
He didn’t look up. “What is it?”
“Are you a police officer?” she asked. “If you are, I need your help.”
He looked up then, and his black eyes flashed when they met hers.
“What do you need help with?”
She glanced down at the badge. Yes, he was definitely some kind of law enforcement officer, though she couldn’t make out the fine print on his badge without her reading glasses. Only the bold block letters at the top stood out clearly enough for her to read: Detective Sargent Peter Wheeler.
She looked back up at his face. “You see, I was over in the bank when the bus crashed. A bunch of us were waiting in line, waiting for the teller. We’ve been watching the accident scene through the window.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
She passed the back of her hand over her eyes. “You see, we were standing there watching, and Alfred Botchweather, the barber, fell down onto the ground. He’s lying there right now.”
His eyes widened. “Did you come over here to tell me that the barber fell down? Is that what you want me to help you with?”
She shook her head, but it didn’t help to clear her thoughts. “No, no. It’s not that. You see, he fell down, and he had a knife sticking out of his back. He’s lying there right now. We didn’t know what to do, so I said I’d come out here and get one of the ambulance people. But they all seem to be busy just now.”
He stared at her. Then he spoke with extreme care. “Are you telling me that there’s a man lying on the floor over there in the bank with a knife sticking out of his back? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Vanessa burst into a radiant smile. “Yes. That’s it. Perfect. I knew you’d understand.”
He folded up his notebook and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket. When he looked back at Vanessa, all the sparkly charm had vanished from his face. Vanessa wilted. “Show me,” he snapped.
Vanessa spun around on her heel and raced back toward the bank with Detective Wheeler right behind her. She tripped on the steps and stumbled into the bank. Her friends arrayed themselves around Alfred’s body.
Detective Wheeler stared down at the body. Then he looked around. “Did anybody try to help him?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Walter bellowed.
“Shut up, Walter,” Vanessa snapped.
“I know what I'll do,” Vanessa exclaimed. “I’ll go get one of the ambulance personnel. They’ll know what to do about this.”
She hurried outside. Depositing the cash from the Opportunity Shop would just have to wait. Dealing with a barber with a knife in his back could take a while. The cats would be climbing the walls when she got home. She raced out of the bank, but when she got to the sidewalk, she slowed down. She didn't dare approach the accident scene, not with all that broken glass and the tow truck trying to maneuver into position.
She skirted around to the ambulances. Medics, firefighters and police officers scurried in all directions. Not one of them gave her a second glance. They were too busy guiding the bus passengers over to the ambulances, wrapping them in blankets, and tending to their wounds.
Vanessa watched for a moment. What should she do? These people needed the paramedics’ attention a lot more than she and her friends in the bank did. She almost turned around and walked away when her eye fell on a man standing some distance away. He wore a tweed jacket and blue jeans. His shoulders filled out his jacket nicely, and his long legs ended in polished cowboy boots. His black hair curled away from his face and ears. She couldn’t see what color his eyes were. He scribbled in a notebook with a ball-point pen.
Vanessa would have thought he was a reporter, except that a name badge flashed from his lapel pocket. She looked closer and saw a silver star hanging next to it. She walked over to him. “Excuse me. I hate to interrupt.”
He didn’t look up. “What is it?”
“Are you a police officer?” she asked. “If you are, I need your help.”
He looked up then, and his black eyes flashed when they met hers.
“What do you need help with?”
She glanced down at the badge. Yes, he was definitely some kind of law enforcement officer, though she couldn’t make out the fine print on his badge without her reading glasses. Only the bold block letters at the top stood out clearly enough for her to read: Detective Sargent Peter Wheeler.
She looked back up at his face. “You see, I was over in the bank when the bus crashed. A bunch of us were waiting in line, waiting for the teller. We’ve been watching the accident scene through the window.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
She passed the back of her hand over her eyes. “You see, we were standing there watching, and Alfred Botchweather, the barber, fell down onto the ground. He’s lying there right now.”
His eyes widened. “Did you come over here to tell me that the barber fell down? Is that what you want me to help you with?”
She shook her head, but it didn’t help to clear her thoughts. “No, no. It’s not that. You see, he fell down, and he had a knife sticking out of his back. He’s lying there right now. We didn’t know what to do, so I said I’d come out here and get one of the ambulance people. But they all seem to be busy just now.”
He stared at her. Then he spoke with extreme care. “Are you telling me that there’s a man lying on the floor over there in the bank with a knife sticking out of his back? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Vanessa burst into a radiant smile. “Yes. That’s it. Perfect. I knew you’d understand.”
He folded up his notebook and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket. When he looked back at Vanessa, all the sparkly charm had vanished from his face. Vanessa wilted. “Show me,” he snapped.
Vanessa spun around on her heel and raced back toward the bank with Detective Wheeler right behind her. She tripped on the steps and stumbled into the bank. Her friends arrayed themselves around Alfred’s body.
Detective Wheeler stared down at the body. Then he looked around. “Did anybody try to help him?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Walter bellowed.
“Shut up, Walter,” Vanessa snapped.
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