Fairmont Finds a Body

  Fairmont Finds a Body

  Cate Lawley

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Sally’s “Bliss in a Bowl” Southwest Corn Chowder Recipe

  Luke’s Favorite Turkey Chili Recipe

  Fairmont-Approved Dog Training Tips

  Author’s Note

  EXCERPT: Adventures of a Vegan Vamp Excerpt

  EXCERPT: Death Retires

  About the Author

  Also by Cate Lawley

  For Vegas.

  I cried (a lot) as I wrote this story, but they were sad-happy tears.

  How could they be anything else when all my memories of you are so wonderful?

  You were the loveliest, sneakiest, cuddliest, and cleverest of GSPs. Your love of lattes far surpassed my own, and your ability to sneak a sip without immediate detection was epic.

  I know you’re out there, stalking squirrels, sipping lattes, and hunting to your heart’s content, because that would be your heaven…

  And everyone knows that all good dogs go to heaven.

  Prologue

  The woman of my dreams entered my life two months ago. Griselda Marek. Zella.

  I enjoy her company above all others, and the dining has never been finer. Even her scent brings a lightness to my heart. She’s a woman I can quietly spend time with, but when she shares the small details of her day, that also brings me joy.

  She entered my life at a particularly difficult time, and it was she who helped to pull me from the edge. I’d nearly lost myself in that dark place, but with her by my side I’ve rediscovered the gentleman within me.

  It’s my deepest desire to make Zella happy. I owe her no less, since she rescued me from despair and quite possibly death.

  My second greatest wish is to help her to find the man of her dreams.

  “Fairmont?”

  My lady calls.

  1

  Fairmont!” I called a second time before I saw his chocolatey head emerge from the breakfast room. I hadn’t seen him for an hour or so and was starting to worry that he’d slipped out the front door with an incautious visitor, even though I’d put a sign on the front door.

  “Have you been sunning yourself?” I rubbed his sun-warmed, silky brown ears as he leaned his head against my leg. I was glad he’d found a quiet spot amidst the bustle and traffic of the estate sale.

  Fifty-five pounds of spotted, stubby-tailed couch potato, that was Fairmont. A friend who’d had German Shorthaired Pointers in the past had told me that I should be prepared for some excitement. That after the “honeymoon” period, Fairmont would probably show his true rambunctious colors.

  “She didn’t know what she was talking about, did she?” I scratched under his chin, and he groaned with contentment.

  An older woman in a dated but meticulously kept Chanel suit approached with a determined expression. I recognized her from the neighborhood but couldn’t recall her name. She eyed the half-apron tied around my waist with a raised eyebrow. Apparently, it did not meet her sartorial standards.

  Omitting any greeting—which failed to meet my neighborly standards—she asked, “The piano’s for sale?”

  I was moving from almost four thousand square feet to nine hundred. I barely had a living room, let alone a music room in my new house. With only the tiniest twinge of regret, I replied, “Yes, it is.”

  Fairmont heaved a sigh when I stopped petting him. He didn’t seem terribly upset to see his home deconstructed and removed via the front door, something I would have guessed a dog would find both confusing and upsetting. Then again, it hadn’t been his home for nearly as long as my own.

  After inspecting my old Steinway thoroughly, the neighbor returned and offered half the value of the piano. Not for the first time, I wished that my daughter Greta had room for it.

  I did a little math. I’d done very nicely on the dining set and my china, and I had no desire to move a piano. Decision made, I countered with a more reasonable sum that was still a fantastic deal.

  “Sold,” she said. “I’ll be by with a check this afternoon.”

  I pulled a sold tag from the deep pocket of my apron. “I hope it brings your family the same joy it did ours.”

  “It’s for my grandson.” She shook her head. “He’s in a band now, but he still plays for me when he visits. I hope he appreciates the upgrade.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. He was a musician, so I was guessing he would.

  A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she said, “You’re too young to be going into a home, so where are you off to?”

  A home? A home? I was forty-nine! You better believe I’m too young, you crazy old—

  A cold nose nudged my hand. I knelt, focusing all of my attention on Fairmont. As I ran my hand along his spotted coat, my blood pressure dropped.

  Looking at the neighbor I now remembered had always been blunt to the point of rudeness, I replied, in an equally blunt manner, “After leaving my husband of almost thirty years, I should have left his house. It’s taken me two years, but I’m finally doing it.”

  She chuckled. “Good for you. Start fresh.” Then she leaned close enough that I was briefly overcome by the strong smell of expensive perfume. “I never did like him.”

  “Well, I can’t say never, but you and I seem to have reached the same conclusion in the end.”

  “Where are you off to? Your lover’s apartment?”

  I coughed, covering my mouth and my smile. Blunt might have been an understatement. I suddenly recalled her name: Mary.

  Mary must have caught a glimpse of my amusement, because she shrugged. “Has to be somewhere small if you’re selling everything. And why not with a lover? Some of us divorced ladies have to be getting lucky.”

  This time, I didn’t try to hide my amusement.

  “I’m sure that’s true.” I hoped it was, though why Mary had pinned those hopes on me… “Well, I am moving to a smaller town and a smaller house, but it will just be Fairmont and me. I’m looking for a new start.”

  And that was what I got five days later when Fairmont and I pulled away from the now-empty house with a “for sale” sign in the yard.

  2

  She’s afraid.

  I can smell the scent of fear. I know that scent—am intimately acquainted with it—but my lady shouldn’t smell of fear.

  She should smell like the sun and the rain and the sweetest things in life. She usually does. But this car ride has frightened her.

  Perhaps we travel to the doctor?

  A shudder ripples through me, and memories of antiseptic smells and sharp needles dance in my head.

  A glance at the back of the car, filled with all of my lady’s favorite items, reassures me that’s an unlikely destination. But whatever the cause, my lady’s distress is clear,
so I try to stay awake to comfort her.

  Contrary to my best efforts, the vibration of the car and the scenery whipping by in a blur lull me to sleep.

  3

  Fairmont and I arrived at our new house two hours later. I took a deep breath as I pulled into the drive, and Fairmont mimicked me with a big canine sigh as he woke from a long nap. I rubbed his ears. Running my fingers over their velvety softness soothed me for reasons I couldn’t explain.

  My grand, life-changing adventure started two months ago when I adopted Fairmont.

  A dog-friendly car had followed shortly thereafter. My ex had picked out and bought the sporty Mercedes I’d traded in. It had been a nice, reliable, fashionable car, but the Grand Cherokee was my car, chosen by me to meet the needs of my changing life. I patted the dash.

  Fairmont and the SUV had only been the beginning. The changes had snowballed from there.

  An estate sale, a house sale (two offers were pending), downsizing from almost four thousand square feet to less than a thousand, moving from Austin to White Sage.

  “And this, Fairmont, is our new life.” I peered at the little box of a house, with its cream paint and black trim. “We should paint the door. Something fun like purple or red, don’t you think?”

  He blinked sleepily at me, looking not the least bit enthused about painting.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the difficult parts. You just have to keep me company.” As I ran my hand across his spotted coat, his stubby tail wagged, but he stayed curled up in the seat.

  According to what I’d read about the breed, Fairmont was a couch potato outlier. The same friend who’d told me that the end of Fairmont’s honeymoon period was coming (it had been coming, according to her, for six weeks now) had also been the one to warn me against adopting him initially. She’d predicted that he would be too much for me.

  “Good thing I didn’t listen to her. Right, buddy?”

  He yawned in response.

  I shut the car off, but still I sat, staring at the façade of my new home. Opening the car door and walking into the house, that would make this new life official. I shook my head. “You’d think selling the contents of our former home would have made it official.”

  His ears perked up. I’d swear sometimes that he understood me.

  “There’s no sunroom, but there’s a huge pecan tree in the middle of the backyard with all sorts of squirrels and birds for you to watch.” I leaned over and kissed him on the head. His short tail wiggled. I whispered in his ear, “Watch, not chase, okay?”

  His ears drooped for just a second, but then they perked up again as he watched something outside the SUV.

  I turned to see what had caught his attention and found a woman headed at a good clip toward us. She had a determined look on her face.

  Fairmont and I had been parked in the drive just long enough to gather the attention of a Nosy Neighbor.

  “It looks like White Sage isn’t so different from our neighborhood in Austin.” I gave Fairmont’s ear one last rub for good luck, cracked the window a bit, then exited the car with a smile on my face.

  “Hi,” I called out.

  The woman who approached looked to be at least twenty years my senior, but she moved with the energy of a much younger woman. She lifted a hand in greeting and, when she was a little closer, said, “Griselda Reed?”

  I extended my hand. “I prefer Zella, and I use my maiden name now, Marek.” Or, at least, I did as of three weeks ago. “But you have very good information.”

  That comment made her grin. “My granddaughter’s a real estate agent. I’ll have a chat with her about her outdated sources. Helen Granger—I live just around the corner. You’ve caught me on my midmorning walk.”

  She made it sound like there was more than one walk a day. Fairmont better not be eavesdropping or he’d start getting ideas.

  “You can give your granddaughter a pass. The name change is quite recent.”

  “Just divorced?” she asked, then frowned. “I’m sorry. That’s absolutely none of my business.” Her gaze drifted over my shoulder.

  I glanced back at the car and saw that Fairmont was straining against his seatbelt harness. I latched on to him as an excellent excuse to not discuss my divorce. That was a topic my travel-weary self couldn’t politely manage, especially with a woman I’d known less than two minutes.

  “Do you mind?” I gestured to the car and my impatient dog. “We’ve been in the car for a few hours. He probably needs a bathroom break.”

  “Not at all. My departed husband had pointers. And isn’t yours a handsome devil?” She was clearly a dog lover, which made me briefly wonder why she didn’t have a four-legged buddy to accompany her on her walks.

  I opened the door and had to push Fairmont back to get enough slack to unhook him. With my hand firmly on the leash, I stepped away from the driver’s door.

  He hopped out, but he must have seen a squirrel (or some small, furry creature), because he didn’t give Helen even a passing glance or sniff. Without an ounce of hesitation, he galloped toward the house.

  Maybe because I was tired from the drive and the start of my new adventure in White Sage, maybe I was just surprised—Fairmont was usually such a gentleman—but either way, he got the best of me. By the time I realized what was happening, my feet were already in motion.

  With inertia, fifty-five pounds of doggie leverage, and surprise on his side, Fairmont had the advantage. I wasn’t about to let go of his leash, so I ended up tugged along behind, trying not to fall flat on my face.

  He came to a shrieking halt when he reached the four-foot chain-link side gate. Literally shrieking.

  Nose in the air, paws bouncing from the ground to the fence and back again, barks ringing loud enough to wake the dead, and more determination than I’d ever seen from my sweetheart couch potato: the unexpected commotion froze me in place.

  When my brain started firing again, I flipped the gate latch and unclipped his leash. It wasn’t like he’d catch whatever creature he was intent on chasing, and this way he could get the ya-yas out of his system.

  As soon as he was free, he took off like a shot.

  I shook my head. Fairmont tended to be a watch-not-chase type of dog. He could stalk birds with a stealthy determination any cat would envy. And barking? Not his cup of tea.

  My dog was thoroughly chill…just not today.

  Almost immediately, the barking started up again. So incredibly odd. He’d let out the occasional woof, but Fairmont didn’t really bark. Well, except for a few well-timed exclamations just as the UPS or FedEx drivers were leaving, enough to make them jump. But that was more a casual reminder that they’d intruded on his house, no comparison to the racket he was making now.

  Both my home inspector and I had checked the sturdy, though not very attractive, chain-link fence. It was on my list on to-dos to replace it with something more appealing, but there was no doubt it would safely contain Fairmont. I felt comfortable enough to turn my back on him so I could make my apologies to Helen and explain that this wouldn’t be a regular occurrence.

  But I didn’t get a chance to say anything. Something on Helen’s face stopped me.

  She’d caught up with Fairmont and me just as I’d released him into the yard. Now she was standing just outside the gate, and all of her attention was riveted on the back corner of my yard—and Fairmont.

  Raising her voice to be heard over Fairmont’s continued barking, she said, “I don’t think you should have done that.”

  Following her gaze, it took me several seconds to grasp what I was seeing.

  Fairmont wasn’t chasing a squirrel or a cat. In fact, he wasn’t chasing anything at all. One hundred percent of his focus was riveted on a stationary bundle in the corner of my new yard.

  A bundle of…clothes?

  I peered closely, but my feet remained glue in place. On some level, I must have recognized the reality of the situation before it had crystalized fully in my mind, because I had no des
ire to approach.

  A chill crawled up my spine, and I shuddered.

  There was a body in my backyard.

  4

  A body.

  In my backyard.

  This was not the welcome I’d hoped for in White Sage. Was the universe laughing at my attempt to start over? Maybe, but I was not joining in.

  As I refused to laugh in the face of Fate’s unfunny plan for me, Fairmont’s barks started to come in bursts. He’d bark like mad, then turn to look at me. But then he’d refocus on the body and start barking all over again.

  The interminable noise and the stress of seeing my normally calm pet lose his ever-loving mind was making me edgy.

  Or perhaps it was the dead man in my yard making me twitchy.

  The man-shaped lump had a sprinkling of fall leaves covering him, and I watched as a leaf drifted through the air and landed gently next to him.

  Dead, yes, definitely dead.

  The context convinced me: the absolute stillness of his body, the accumulation of undisturbed leaves, and something about the arrangement of his limbs. Also, Fairmont had bopped him with his nose, and that hadn’t stirred even a flicker of movement.

  My new home, my new start, my new life, and this was what I got. Never one for hysteria, I could feel the unfamiliar beginnings of panic creeping in.