the pines shrieked and rose up into the air en masse. Crows. They’re terrible scavengers, worse than buzzards in my opinion, because if their chosen meal isn’t dead, they’ll still eat it. At least most buzzards have the decency to wait.
I began to feel a bit uneasy. Bitty had disappeared into the cabin and I could hear her yelling at someone. She sounded furious. Whoever she was yelling at didn’t do much shouting back. At least, I couldn’t hear them. After a moment it got quiet. Too quiet.
Then an unearthly shriek that sounded worse than the crows came from the cabin, and we all burst into action. I started toward the cabin in a gait somewhat similar to that of a crab on a pier, since my knee throbbed from having hit the dashboard earlier. Beside me, Rayna ran much more gracefully—and faster—to leap up on the cabin porch ahead of me. Gaynelle and Cindy weren’t far behind us, while Deelight huddled in a crouch on the ground next to Marcy Porter and Cady Lee. Sandra had disappeared.
Rayna, going into the cabin at a run, met Bitty coming out of the cabin at a run. They collided just inside the doorway. The impact knocked them both backwards. Bitty landed inside on the floor, and Rayna sprawled on the porch.
I had a stitch in my side from trying to run the hundred yards or so to the cabin and arrived out of breath and holding a hand to my ribs. Rayna looked dazed but okay. I lurched toward the still open door. Bitty had landed on her rear end, hard. It had obviously knocked the breath out of her. I hovered over her, hair straggling down in my face and my hand to my side, trying to talk but still struggling for breath. Gasping, I held out my other hand for her to grab.
She looked up at me and recoiled, then seemed to recognize me and took my hand. As I helped her to her feet, I heard Gaynelle call from outside, “Is it a bear, Bitty?”
Rayna sounded edgy “How many bears do you know that drive a Volkswagen Beetle?”
“It smells funny in here,” Cindy commented as she sidled into the cabin.
I looked around. It was a nice cabin, as cabins in the woods go. It was open plan, with living room and kitchen on opposite sides, and a well-stocked bar dividing the room. Beyond the living area I could see a huge bed in a back room, but no sign of an intruder.
Bitty, still breathless from the impact with Rayna, clutched at me with her other hand. I could see she had smacked her mouth in the collision; blood dripped from her bottom lip. She said something unintelligible, and I shook my head.
“Catch your breath, honey. You’ve just got a split lip. We’ll deal with whoever is trespassing.”
I still sounded a bit wheezy myself, but apparently Bitty understood me because she shook her head vigorously.
“No! Me!”
“No, no, you need to rest and catch your breath,” Gaynelle said in her best teacher voice, but this time it didn’t work on Bitty.
She jerked away from me, but caught my wrist and dragged me toward the room with the bed in it. “No . . . me!” she got out again. “No . . . me!”
It wasn’t until she had me all the way inside the bedroom that I saw what she was really saying.
A body lay lifelessly atop a comforter spread over the bed. Blond hair spilled atop white pillows, and the face turned toward me was purple and contorted. A silk scarf was knotted tightly around the neck.
Someone had strangled Naomi Spencer.
CHAPTER 7
Not all outings with Bitty end this way, though lately her ratio is rising. Sandra, who had gone back to the car to get her first aid kit, something she usually carries with her when traveling with Bitty, checked Naomi’s vital signs and agreed that she was, indeed, dead. Since Sandra is a registered nurse, I tended to believe her.
Unfortunately, none of our cell phones worked on this hilltop thick with pine trees and crows. Rayna offered to drive down the hill until she could get a signal, and we all thought that was the best thing to do. The police would
I began to feel a bit uneasy. Bitty had disappeared into the cabin and I could hear her yelling at someone. She sounded furious. Whoever she was yelling at didn’t do much shouting back. At least, I couldn’t hear them. After a moment it got quiet. Too quiet.
Then an unearthly shriek that sounded worse than the crows came from the cabin, and we all burst into action. I started toward the cabin in a gait somewhat similar to that of a crab on a pier, since my knee throbbed from having hit the dashboard earlier. Beside me, Rayna ran much more gracefully—and faster—to leap up on the cabin porch ahead of me. Gaynelle and Cindy weren’t far behind us, while Deelight huddled in a crouch on the ground next to Marcy Porter and Cady Lee. Sandra had disappeared.
Rayna, going into the cabin at a run, met Bitty coming out of the cabin at a run. They collided just inside the doorway. The impact knocked them both backwards. Bitty landed inside on the floor, and Rayna sprawled on the porch.
I had a stitch in my side from trying to run the hundred yards or so to the cabin and arrived out of breath and holding a hand to my ribs. Rayna looked dazed but okay. I lurched toward the still open door. Bitty had landed on her rear end, hard. It had obviously knocked the breath out of her. I hovered over her, hair straggling down in my face and my hand to my side, trying to talk but still struggling for breath. Gasping, I held out my other hand for her to grab.
She looked up at me and recoiled, then seemed to recognize me and took my hand. As I helped her to her feet, I heard Gaynelle call from outside, “Is it a bear, Bitty?”
Rayna sounded edgy “How many bears do you know that drive a Volkswagen Beetle?”
“It smells funny in here,” Cindy commented as she sidled into the cabin.
I looked around. It was a nice cabin, as cabins in the woods go. It was open plan, with living room and kitchen on opposite sides, and a well-stocked bar dividing the room. Beyond the living area I could see a huge bed in a back room, but no sign of an intruder.
Bitty, still breathless from the impact with Rayna, clutched at me with her other hand. I could see she had smacked her mouth in the collision; blood dripped from her bottom lip. She said something unintelligible, and I shook my head.
“Catch your breath, honey. You’ve just got a split lip. We’ll deal with whoever is trespassing.”
I still sounded a bit wheezy myself, but apparently Bitty understood me because she shook her head vigorously.
“No! Me!”
“No, no, you need to rest and catch your breath,” Gaynelle said in her best teacher voice, but this time it didn’t work on Bitty.
She jerked away from me, but caught my wrist and dragged me toward the room with the bed in it. “No . . . me!” she got out again. “No . . . me!”
It wasn’t until she had me all the way inside the bedroom that I saw what she was really saying.
A body lay lifelessly atop a comforter spread over the bed. Blond hair spilled atop white pillows, and the face turned toward me was purple and contorted. A silk scarf was knotted tightly around the neck.
Someone had strangled Naomi Spencer.
CHAPTER 7
Not all outings with Bitty end this way, though lately her ratio is rising. Sandra, who had gone back to the car to get her first aid kit, something she usually carries with her when traveling with Bitty, checked Naomi’s vital signs and agreed that she was, indeed, dead. Since Sandra is a registered nurse, I tended to believe her.
Unfortunately, none of our cell phones worked on this hilltop thick with pine trees and crows. Rayna offered to drive down the hill until she could get a signal, and we all thought that was the best thing to do. The police would
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