Free Murder of a Sweet Old Lady by Denise Swanson

“Come with me. Put your hands in your pockets and don’t touch anything.”
    Skye frowned. “Why? What’s going on?”
    He didn’t answer, just led the way.
    Every room had been trashed. Drawers had been pulled out and emptied in the middle of the floor. The contents of the closets had been treated similarly. Even the cushions had been unzipped and the foam removed.
    Chief Boyd stopped in the living room, which allowed them to see into almost all the rest of the house. “Was it like this the last time you were here?”
    “No. You were here, too. You saw what it looked like when Simon took Grandma’s body away.”
    “I just wanted to make sure.”
    “Fine, but remember Mom handed you the key and we all left.”
    “So how did the intruder get in?” Wally murmured, almost to himself.
    Skye ran the layout of the house through her mind. “The basement. There’s a window down there that pops off.”
    Wally looked at her questioningly. “What?”
    “My grandfather’s family house was destroyed by a tornado when he was a young man. They hid in their basement and fortunately no one was killed. The unlucky thing was that they were trapped for days because all the basement windows were too small and they couldn’t get out.” Skye glanced at Wally to see if he was following her. “So, when they built this house they put in a special safety window. You press on two little tabs on the top and it comes right out. Originally it could only be opened from the inside, but years of wear and tear have made it easy to push in from the outside too.”
    He led her back to the kitchen. “Stay here. I’ll check out the basement.”
    She heard his footsteps as they ran down the stairs.
    A few thuds, a couple of muffled curses, and he was back. “Looks like you were right. There’re some fresh marks in the dust by that window. I’ll make sure it’s examined for prints.” Wally looked around the kitchen. “I wonder why this room wasn’t searched.”
    Skye grabbed on to that thought. “So, you think this was a search rather than vandalism. That would prove that Grandma didn’t just die in her sleep, wouldn’t it?”
    “Probably. I think the autopsy will confirm it.”
    “We’d better get this stuff in the car and find Bingo. I promised I’d be at work at ten.”
    After dumping the cat supplies in the trunk of the Buick, they set out to find the feline. He could be hiding almost anywhere. The yard was more than two acres, with the, right half planted in rows of fruit trees.
    There was a small front lawn, a long grassy side area, and an untended expanse in the back of the house. The chief took the right part and started searching among the trees. Skye first checked the front and side sections on the left. When there was no sign of Bingo, she unwillingly headed toward the back.
    Here, the terrain was uneven and covered with tall weeds. She grimaced at her new cream-colored canvas sandals. There went thirty-eight dollars.
    Calling, “Here Bingo, here kitty, kitty,” Skye trekked through the prairie grass, feeling it cut her bare ankles and calves.
    Finally, she heard a yowl and spotted the cat just a few yards ahead of her. He was sitting by a round concrete slab with a cast-iron ring embedded in the middle. The cover, which was supposed to be flush to the ground, was slightly ajar.
    As Skye approached, an odor stopped her. It was sickeningly sweet and smelled a little like the time her refrigerator broke down when she was gone for the weekend. She forced herself closer and grabbed Bingo, who protested the abrupt treatment by squirming and yowling.
    Turning, she ran toward the orchard. “Wally, Wally! Come quick.”
    Skye stopped at the Buick and retrieved the cat carrier from the trunk. She shoved Bingo inside and secured the door then continued toward the trees, calling for the chief.
    He burst out of the grove with his hand on his gun. “Skye, are you all right?”
    She stopped to catch her breath. “I’m fine.”