A short dogwalk back down the sidewalk street, granted by the fawning sky

 

During their ‘exchange’, Grant had dropped the leash, he realized, but King Leopold had been laying on the pavement at their feet; the red leather handle in his mouth as he watched the occasional car drive by. It was clear out now, after the rains and it was possible to see the stars in the sky. 

“Oh look,” Grant pointed up as he casually bent down to take the red dog-leash handle from King Leopoldo’s mouth (Faun hadn’t noticed), “that is the Dog Star—Sirius—you see it there?”

She looked up,

“oh it’s bright,” she said seeing this clearly 

And as King Leopold stood up, the three of them headed back in the direction of the grey-lilac Victorian house, with the now drenched overgrown garden 

side street dogwalk with some wolfish intent

 

Faun took the umbrella for the walk, even though the rain had stopped and Grant had purchased a dog leash which clipped on neatly to his collar. 

They walked without any hurry as King Leopold lead the way, leisurely stopping to sniff the ground at times as they walked down the block, passing the quaint, little houses nearby with their unique individualistic twists to the original architecture of the homes that sat closely to their neighbors. 

And as they walked, Fawn tried to keep her mind off of what had just happened between them on the couch—as she wasn’t sure if it had all been her own action that brought it about and fearing it was, she felt embarrassed about her actions. What had come over her to behave in such a way?

But she reined her thoughts from continuing in this direction and made an effort to walk respectfully outside what she thought of as his personal boundaries. She had, for a few moments, berated herself too with thoughts of— how could she take advantage of the poor man when he had just had such a shock and ….then there was that otherworldly ringtone she kept reminding herself about that kept haunting her since the last times it happened. These thoughts caused her to pull her rain jacket around her tightly, and turn up the collar demurely, along with her guilty thoughts of the feeling of that kiss; how it had felt in the heat of the moment ….well, it burned in her memory and swept over her body with its liquifying, residual impression.

She reprimanded herself because she knew she should instead be thinking about all the things that happened when the police and detective had arrived.

But she really didn’t want to think about this either. She didn’t want anything to disturb or rather ruin ….that something ….she had felt which had passed between them with—that kiss. The quick flash of this thought burnt her skin everywhere despite all good intentions…. and, absently, she stole a quick glance at Grant as she thought this…. she wasn’t sure, but when she turned to look at him under the fall of her hair, she thought she had caught him looking at her…. but then he was being pulled away by King Leopold as he had found some favorable spot.

Faun turned away under pretense of respect, which allowed herself a fleeting moment. She touched her full mouth. She could still feel him there. And she wondered how she would ever be able to erase its effect upon her. His. In her own memory, she could not ever remember any other ….who had such an effect. And it was not the first time she had felt it with him. It had happened other times, if she allowed herself to ….recall….but she avoided this thought. It would have brought her to the first time when she had looked into his green eyes which subconsciously had the ability to make her feel she walked in a field of lush grass each time she looked into them; one like rich green-ochre and the other that had shards like the Gulf Stream and could somehow pull her under its bog

She forced herself not to let herself further go there, and made herself focus instead on the adorable little houses that she loved to look at on her local walks of the neighborhood. Tonight all their Halloween lights glowed in the evening, and she marveled at the imaginative residents who were so creative in the displays they achieved. And as they walked, it seemed a wonderland of something magical, as if all of it had been put there just for them. The orange and the Halloween purples, the flying witches on broomsticks, the Nightmare characters, the bats, and Great Pumpkins…. but—then she’d caught the scent of him; it was something in the scent of his hair from what he used; somehow it lingered on her. She realized it was on her fingers—she….had touched his hair….during their kiss. She recalled this now. As she had landed upon him and fell into his mouth, her hands had reached to feel what it felt like—first to his neatly clipped facial hair, that same rich brown as his hair, and then had gone to his hair, lavishing in his textures, so thick and coarsely ….masculine, like his scent which….still lingered on her fingertips.

But like a song you don’t want to keep playing in your head when one gets stuck there, was that ringtone. Who was it that kept calling him? 

She physically shook her head now to force away how this made her feel….and she reminded herself….’it is not any of my business, what right do I have to presume to be jealous?’ 

“Are you ok?” Grant suddenly asked her having noticed this and he himself felt concerned of his own actions of offending her during that moment; had he taken advantage of the kindness she had showed him?

“Oh!—yeah!” she said—with maybe too much enthusiasm

In the street light he could see her delicate complexion flush again…. but then, she did not pull her eyes from his right away; she seemed to search his carefully as she moved slightly closer. Searching. For…. ? it was actually for a sign of ….what he might be thinking….and if she were honest with herself then she would have admitted it was for a sign of what his real reaction was of her forward move on him. But she couldn’t really tell. He seemed to be studying her with his own concerns that she could not interpret which masked any clue for what she was searching for.

She had no way to know that his own doubts of offending her were much the same.

Faun caught another warm scent from him—this was slightly different, a kind of pleasant, wood-like, spicy scent she could not place but caused a sensation to rush through her as she inhaled it; it made her feel a bit dizzy and she tried to not allow herself to reveal this but, she lost her balance by the effects. 

He caught her arm as she was about to trip over the uneven pavement of the sidewalk

Again, they both started to speak at the same time 

“Look, I’m sorry if—“ (him)

“Hey, about wh—“ (her)

They both stopped in their speech realizing they were about to refer to the kiss —and, truth be told; it had not just been a kiss. There had been something —much more intended that had most overtly ….transpired ….and covertly, her face burned at the memory of the clear evidence of his desire —and the effect it had left upon her at the time had clearly left her with its takeaway reaction. Along with the lingering aftermath that also lingered. And wickedly played with her mind. At this moment it made her uncomfortable; but not out of embarrassment. 

Had he picked up on this? 

She moved to turn away just then but something stopped her, because, yes, her own effusion of scent mixed with lily of the valley, or was it patchouli or bergamot—?he couldn’t be sure ….gave her away—and that was the signal that caused him to suddenly push her up against the tree they stood by under the street lamp, holding her there, his hands in her thick and wild rubicund mane of hair, gripping hold of her skull in his hands. And this time there was no mistake about concern or worry for the action so that she forgot to think and forgot where they were—forgot King Leopold on the leash and the street with the possibility of passing cars; so caught in the feel of his kiss and the feel of his hands in her hair; the feel of his body pressed to the length of hers, the fabric of the drape of her burgundy dress strained and pulled slightly across her hips and lower between. And maybe she should have been thinking. Had she remembered how. But she wasn’t. It just felt too good to …. just give up ….to it. And lose herself.

She was not aware, then, that she had run her hands and flattened them to him; up and across his shoulders, while wantonly pressing into him and within the flannel business jacket he still wore, her fingers moving to and running along his scruffy jaw, stealing touches of him and his textures, desperate to know what they felt like and then burnt by the knowing of what she found. 

But then it was the loud sound of her growling stomach that caused Grant to break the kiss,

“I think you’re hungry,” he said, “I wonder if we can find any place open at this hour?”

It took a few beats to comprehend his words. His lilting accent spinning its poetry in her mind but once replayed a few times in her thoughts, she decoded his meaning, and flushed vividly under the streetlight,

“this town closes up like a drum by eight— do you like scrabbled eggs? I’ve got eggs at home”

Side st mystery; another dog eared page

 

King Leopold settled once having been around the familiar presence of Grant and Faun, of whom he had recently come to know from her visits at the house and when she’d come to look after him just the other night. And when they waited together in the yellow Volvo as Grant ran in to purchase King Leopoldo’s doggie bag and essentials, the giant puppy managed to get himself into the front seat of the car and try to sit on Faun’s diminutive (by comparison) lap, whimpering sadly and lapping her small featured face with his giant tongue, and soaking her in the process ….always a cat person, herself—for the main reasons of size, convenience and—well—smells, Faun resisted the first instinct to gag and shudder because—really, she was a push over when it came to animals of all sizes. So, well, what could she do?—she let him because Faun realized the poor little—big—dear….was now an orphan. Poor thing. Her heart went out to him. 

Even while, logistically, it was impossible for him to get onto her lap. Especially with the steering wheel there. So, instead, she let him rest his massive head on her lap—and half the front of his body. And while they sat in the parking lot of Walmart (the only still-open store around at this time) King Leopold lay like that with the occasional showers of affection. And in between playing ‘body guard’ (in the form of a barrage of terrifying, and terribly threatening loud bouts of barking) every time someone walked past the car.Which turned out to happen rather a lot. 

So she was relieved when she saw Grant walking towards the car,

“oh look! There he is! Look King Leopold!”

When Grant opened his side and realized there was someone sitting in his seat, he laughed,

“good thing I bought dog treats—and….what’s this, Leopold? You know what this is?” 

King Leopold barked excitedly at Grant

“Yes, it’s your favorite! Now, go retrieve it!” and Grant tossed a great big mastiff size bone into the back seat. 

It right shook the car making loud, arresting metallic sounds as he did so.

Grant slid into the seat and shut the door. And just as it started to rain again. 

Pulling up Faun’s driveway now she started to wonder about ….what was to happen now. Between the mysterious deaths of her landlords ….and what was to happen about the bookshop and ….her own apartment…. but how could she even think to bring such a topic like this up now? Of course she would never dream of bothering Grant with questions like this right now.

But as she stopped and parked Grant suddenly said,

“listen, don’t worry about your place—you signed a lease, nobody is going to throw you out, and it’ll be awhile before any of this makes sense but—I’ll make sure you’re safe and —I’ve already worked out your salary, if you approve, we can discuss it, but, if you give me your bank information, I can deposit it directly—we owe you the past few weeks and skip next month’s rent for your trouble.”

He didn’t wait for her reply and got right out, opening the back seat while saying,

“do you want dinner Leo? Daddy’s got dinner, come on boy!” 

Faun watched the giant beast chase after Grant as they ran down the drive in the rain 

It was a moment she sat there not knowing what to do. 

Was she to follow them inside that way?

Or should she just go home?

It had been such a long day. For both of them. So much had happened. 

And what he just said to her….kind of capped off the evening. So to speak. Englishmen can be so hard to read….and rather customary —she wasn’t sure if that was his goodnight. So she sat there for awhile watching the rain soak the windshield. 

Then her phone rang.

She didn’t recognize the number and yet it was the oddity of the numbers that made her answer,

“are you coming in?” it was Grant, “I think the king is expecting you—“ there was a loud bark in the background 

“I’ll be right there,” she said.

So there she went down the drive to the gate, past the now soaking wet overgrown garden and up the porch; he’d left the door open with just the screen door and she could see them inside as she walked up. 

Grant seemed to have the dog settled with a giant bowl of food,

“I’ll have to figure out what he eats, I’m sure that stuff is crap —I didn’t know what else to get,” he said as she walked into the kitchen; but his majesty didn’t seem to mind, Faun was thinking, as she watched the beast devour the contents in the bowl 

Faun noticed Grant had set a large bowl of water on the floor next to the food bowl 

“You mentioned tea,” Grant said, and removed a tin from the shopping bag as the tea kettle whistled on the stove. They both jumped, “this thing is ancient!” Grant said, shutting off the stove and finding the cups and saucers 

“Let me do that,” Faun said and reached for the tin, “Republic of tea—Mango Ceylon, that’s my favorite.”

“I never tried it, I took a guess,” he shrugged, “you said you don’t drink milk—thought you might like this—it’s coconut and almond, unless you like it without.”

“It depends—either way—I’ll try it,” she was momentarily dazed by the fact he remembered what she’d said. Or had heard her. Most men never bothered to hear things like that—in her experience. 

“I didn’t think of food—unfortunately….” and to demonstrate, he opened all the empty cupboards to show her. “Are you hungry? You must be—it’s late.”

“Don’t worry about me—unless you are? I have food—I can make something and bring it over,” and as she said this, she waved her hand at the door she had entered there through by the salmon couches 

He glanced at her hand and smiled,

“you wouldn’t have to go all the way down the driveway—“ and now he suppressed a chuckle as he walked towards the little dinning room. He kind of waved at her as he went that way and once in the dining room he faced her but pointed to his right where on her side there was only a wall, “there’s a stairwell through this door—which goes actually up to the room I told you I stay in when I’m here but this door —which is on other side of the laundry room—is the door that leads into—“

but now she understood,

“Oh! My apartment! That’s my kitchen door!” and she ran  into the dining room where he stood so that she could see. 

“Huh!” she said and reached into her clutch bag for her keys, “I wonder if one of these keys opens that lock, I was afraid to try it,” and when she did, it easily turned. The door itself took more effort—as it seemed not to have been opened in awhile. But then it swung open

Had she come home in her normal way—the porch from the driveway—with her apartment you entered directly into the kitchen from the porch. And, although s rather small kitchen, it was a fully updated kitchen with green granite counters, stainless steel appliances and polished wood kitchen cabinets. 

“How funny,” Faun said as she considered the days they must have been facing each other without realizing it, standing on either sides of the same wall. 

King Leopold came over to investigate now too.

It was a rather odd set up. Her apartment was on two floors. While the kitchen and sitting room was down stairs, you had to go up a narrow staircase to reach her bathroom and bedroom….which meant they shared the same bedroom wall as well.

“There’s a bathroom, in the kitchen—which is odd—see?” she said, “Arthur called it the ‘field hand’s washroom’ he said this house was on farm land years back when it was first built and after a day in the fields plowing, they’d come home all muddy and so would wash when they came in the door,” she opened the door to the small bathroom that looked like it still had the original plumbing—a very old toilet with the chain pulley and a narrow black tiled square unit with an old shower head with hot and cold turning levers, like the old sink with an antique mirror above it. 

“He never told me about that—that is interesting. Have you flushed it?” Grant asked her

“Yeah—a few times. I wasn’t sure of it at first, but Arthur said it—“ and now King Leopold barked upon hearing the name said again…. And for a moment Faun stopped talking to bend down to pet him and touch his face. Then continued talking to Grant while looking at King Leopold, “will likely outlast the other plumbing—I think he kept it because he ….liked antiques—like the old cash register at the shop….and the safe.”

“I know ….he did like his antiques—well—I think our tea has steeped by now.”

Faun followed Grant back through the door to the other kitchen and shut the door between closing it but leaving it open a crack 

And, yes, in fact, the teas were steeped and now Grant held up the coconut-almond mild, 

“shall I?” he stood beside the cup and saucer closest to Faun and twisted open the cap of the container

“Why don’t we have it in here?” Grant walked back into the salmon colored sitting room, “although, these sofas you will find not the most comfortable.”

“Well, my place only has room for a loveseat —and mine is more shabby than chic, to be honest—but then I don’t even have a tv—oh, you don’t say tv, do you? Oh, yeah, you guys call it—telly—“

He had been watching her without being obvious about it; among all the drama, she had been such a good sport, he was thinking and, had she not been there he —would not have admitted it to himself but, he would have been quite a reck right now …. But now as she said this he laughed suddenly and without thinking he put his index finger to her lips and stared down into her face. 

It hadn’t been a planned move. It surprised the both of them. 

But now suddenly he was looking down into her pretty upturned face, with those strangely slanted dark eyes he found himself now staring into. And her face, which —he noticed ….had become suddenly flushed by this action. And his proximity. 

What was she saying? 

He’d forgotten. 

What were they doing?

She’d forgotten.

They stared into each others eyes. 

The dog barked breaking their spell. 

Grant blinked and shook himself,

“actually, there is a tv in here,” and as he said ‘tv’ he winked at her and walked over to the wall that faced the porch by the kitchen where there was what looked like a cabinet. But when he opened it, the two doors receded into the wall

“Oh that’s a—dumb waiter!”

As Grant said,

“it’s a butler’s lift.”

But instead of trays of prepared meals meant to be lifted upstairs, there sat a large flatscreen television the perfect distance from the largest salmon couch

“I usually find something streaming because I’ve found navigating the channels here is a lot like navigating the English Chanel,” he meant that to tease her for what she’d said and as he spoke he tried to find something now. He wanted to find something for them to watch to take their minds off of the somber events of the day. “Oh, what do you think of this—I’ve been watching a recent Viking find; it’s a group of archeologists on a recent excavation in Iceland.”

“That sounds great,” she said and actually meant it too and as she moved towards the kitchen to get their teas and brought them over. 

They seemed to forget about food.

There was large old leather trunk that sat on the floor and seemed to serve as a coffee table and here is where Faun put their cups and saucers.

And, as there would have been no other place to sit that allowed for television viewing, as Grant moved towards it he looked at Faun and smiled letting her decide which side to sit. She picked a side and he sat on the side closest to the door and King Leopold jumped up and placed himself between them before resting his head on Faun’s lap where she had turned herself to prop herself slightly to rest her lower back against the arm rest and put her feet up on the trunk.

It as a good documentary. If it hadn’t been, Faun would not have been so absorbed in it. In fact, they hardly noticed when King Leopold jumped down to find his bone, and went to chew on it stretched out on the floor in front of the tv. So absorbed in the show, she’d hardly noticed she had kicked off her pumps and pulled her legs up onto the sofa. That is, not until she stretched out her legs on it and felt his legs were going in the other direction

….but he did not seem to notice. And it was at an exciting part of the documentary as they were showing the tools of some legendary Viking lord and all he said was,

“are you cold?” as they were both staring at the screen as the tools were displayed on the screen 

“A little,” she said still watching the screen amazed; hardly noticing that he had pulled a heavy throw blanket across their legs 

It was a two hour documentary and King Leopold fell asleep with his bone and somehow Faun’s legs had wound up nestled comfortably, but unconsciously intermingled with Grant’s grey flannel trousered legs, his own shoes on the floor not far from hers. And then it was hard to say exactly how it happened, when Faun’s phone rang inside her clutch bag; she had forgotten she put it on the side table next to Grant. And when she reached to get it, climbing over him in order to shut it off, he had, at the same moment, reached for her clutch bag in order to give it to her small—but his move had surprised her, throwing her off, so —she actually fell! —and awkwardly, right on top of him!

It was quite embarrassing to her! Slam! And she fell! —and right on top of him! As she landed, and chest down, on him —trapped by the fabric of her dress, as it tangled her and fixed her there —and as she did so, he caught her— with his long limbs to steady her from landing on the floor. 

“Oh!” she nearly had the wind knocked out of her and when she looked up at him now her face was more flushed than before, and then —the phone stopped ringing 

“Missed it,” he said in a half whisper as their faces were now only inches away

“I should—“ she had begun to say ‘go’ as she stared at his sensual mouth— while she tried to move to get up, but drawn by the warmth of him, and the way his eyes watched her, and, forgetting she was trapped, and instead it caused her to fall again, as he caught her. And then, it was hard to say which of them it was —who first made the move, because then she was kissing his mouth—or it was it he who was kissing hers? 

But King Leopold interrupted the moment with that demanding bark that could only mean one thing 

“He needs to go out—“ they both said at the same time 

Side walk side street mystery, dog eared scene continued

 

Grabbing hold of King Leopard’s collar, Grant looked around at their surroundings. He had the sense that someone had been there before when he’d heard the rustling of the leaves 

“That Pierre Reaux seriously got on my nerves! I can’t believe he has the gall to tell you not to leave the country—what is he seriously suggesting you’re a suspect—like what?—you murdered your aunt? I mean, yeah, it is is an odd occurrence to have first one pass away and then the wife—I get that—but, seriously! His attitude! —he’s a crazy, self-impressed egotistical jerk ….But Grant, why do you suppose our chief detective was so angry?” Faun asked, bending to pet King Leopold on the head as they stood with the huge beast who seemed quite shaken too. He had tried to jump up against her when he’d come galloping over, nearly knocking Faun over, unaware that his own weight exceeded hers by some seventy or one hundred pounds but Grant prevented this by stepping between them and a sharp command.

“He said they should not have removed Aunt Fiona until he had the opportunity to investigate things before anything was touched.”

“Oh….” this gruesome detail was disturbing, “but…. they said they had to because—“

“Yes—because they said she must have passed away last night and ….”

He stopped short of saying that the remains would have begun to decay. 

Officer Sullivan with two of his crew and the chief detective had gone upstairs to look for evidence while one remained downstairs to look around for clues of forced entry. And it seemed he was told to stay in order to watch Grant and Faun. They had been upstairs a long time and had come down with clear plastic bags filled with objects from the room that they said was for evidence.

“Gosh….” Faun shuddered and looked at King Leopold, grabbing hold of the folds of his face and affectionately pressed her face to his smelly one, “poor thing—he must have run out for human help, I’d guess.”

“Would you?” Grant asked with some doubt 

“Well, I mean—no, I guess he was scared,” Faun said 

“Or—what if he wasn’t there when it happened?” Grant asked her in a consciously lowered voice 

and because he was whispering, so did she as she said,

“I guess that ….is possible but—why? —and where would he have been….? What are you thinking?”

Grant looked around,

“I think we should go—we shouldn’t be lurking around here,” and he looked back towards the bushes where King Leopold had come out from the shadows and then whispered, “I feel like ….there’s somebody nearby—“ and there was something more implied by his tone, “do you mind taking him with us in your car?”

“Of course not—but I think we should go back in the house first to get his food and things,” Faun looked hesitant at the house and then back at Grant

“I’d rather we didn’t—why don’t we stop by and pick up a bag of dog food at the store, there must be something still open now—I just assume we avoid going back inside there tonight,” he said 

At which point Faun thought she heard more rustling leaves coming from the same direction in the bushes. She looked at King Leopold finding it odd he wasn’t barking at the sound 

“Yeah—let’s go,” she said and dug into her clutch bag for the car keys

Side street mystery; dog eared page

 

Finally, after everyone had gone—with a menacing last remark from Chief detective Pierre Reaux,

“do not plan on leaving the country,” he said looking pointedly at Grant as if a warning, and then he had spun on his heel and left on the tail of the departing policemen.

Grant shut the door behind them and they watched from the window as the cops got into the police cars and Pierre Reaux disappeared across the street. They watched the police cars drive away soon followed by a silver nondescript sedan, the unmistakable profile of Pierre Reaux illuminated by the street light.

Grant had been holding apart the curtain at the window as they watched them depart, and now he dropped the sheer and then closed the heavy hunter green drape. He then went to each window to do the same. There were five windows that circled the front of the house and he went to each one after to do the same. 

When he was done he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall by the last drapery of the bay window he had drawn shut. He stared dully at the floor. Or rather his own shoes. But he was not looking at his shoes, really, he was examining his own thoughts and still seeing Aunt Fiona in his thoughts as she had appeared when he first found her in the bedroom. 

Faun’s first thoughts were out of concern for Grant, even as the shock of seeing a dead body which belonged to someone she knew—and had liked had left her quite shaken as well. Her first instincts were the need to find order among the chaos of everything; she relied heavily upon order, it was always her pillar and source of strength, but also, her desire to provide some means in which to be of help.

“Would it help if I made you tea?” she asked him 

Her words seemed to make no sense to him. At first he blankly stared at her but he was not seeing her, he was still seeing Aunt Fiona and that horrid impression still left upon his inner mental retinas. 

“Erm….” to pause to regain a lucid thought. Then he said, “not here….” 

Yes. There was the burning need to leave the house as soon as possible. 

Faun felt the same and looked around for where she had left her umbrella and clutch. When she spotted both, laid upon the entrance console by the gilt framed mirror to the left of the highly polished wood door she slowly walked towards this.

And cautiously Grant added with a sigh,

“but first, perhaps we had better look for King Leopold,” he raised his now bloodshot, shadowed-forest eyes as she turned to look at him.

Faun drew a gap in the drawn drapery and curtains to look again out the window nearest the console,

“it looks like the rain has finally stopped….” and then dropped the draperies to wait for him by the door, holding both her umbrella and clutch close to herself, repressing a chill that swept through her, “do you know where the house key could be?”

“Check the table drawer,” he suggested, remembering having seen it there often.

Faun found the key,

“we should lock up—make sure all the doors are locked.”

Once they had done they left together, shutting the front door, locking it, and went down the front path towards the chess pieces. 

It seemed a life time had passed since they had walked past them when they had arrived now so many hours ago.

In silence they reached the gate and paused a moment. 

“We can start looking around the block first—I think Arthur usually would walk him to the park thst is down that way—perhaps that’s where Leopold went….”

Faun followed where he pointed and turned as if to go but hesitated,

“Did the paramedic say it was carbon monoxide?” Faun asked him now 

“He said it was not up to him to determine, or something like thst—I forget exactly what he said—I’d mentioned what the coroner told me earlier….”

“Oh,” Faun thought about that 

For a few beats they stood paused at the gate still within the grounds

“What is that?” Grant asked slowly as he listened to something. 

Faun strained her ears.

“Do you hear that?” Grant asked her

At first she hadn’t but after a moment she heard a sound. Like a movement. It sounded like a rustling in the bushes that lined the front of the house. 

Faun reached for her phone and found the phone flashlight. They could see a skunk skulking in a run through the grass 

Instinctively they both moved back a few inches, even as they were well enough away. 

“Just a skunk,” Grant said opening the gate and waited to let her through first 

“Yes,” Faun said as they started out

But then they heard a louder sound of bustling leaves as the thick hedge was disturbed, followed by a loud bark,

“King Leopold!” they both said together as they watched the huge black mastiff come galloping towards them with a terrified expression on its canine, aristocratic face

No king of clubs; side street murder? mystery

 

It was only a matter of minutes before the ambulance arrived, no sooner hung up the phone, they could hear the sirens coming. And then almost just as quickly ….the paramedics pronounced Fiona Bishop dead. 

And then it was a whiplash of events that followed. 

Before the police showed up Grant and Faun sat stunned on the Bishop’s couch next to each other, staring into the room they sat in; the main part of the downstairs was their sitting room; a lavishly furnished room much like the bookshop with the addition of a harpsichord and a standing harp; there were bookcases everywhere filled with books; and books piled on the floor in neat stacks all over the hard wood floor. The colors were deep earthy tones of dark browns and greens with an occasional brick red here and there…. snd sitting there, it was impossible not to imagine Fiona walking through the room and laughing about something she heard someone say at the shop….

“Did you smell any carbon monoxide?” Grant suddenly asked her out of the blue 

For a moment Faun tried to remember ….

“No actually,” she said thoughtfully 

“Neither did I,” he said ponderously 

Then she sat bolt upright and looked at Grant,

“King Leopold!”

Grant sat up too and faced her—he would have stood but he was still in shock and the sudden head rush he got sitting up m, prevented him from standing up just yet. 

He looked at her then away, biting his lower lip as he then played absently with his facial scruff; he considered this. Then he looked back at her,

“he can’t have gone too far, he doesn’t like rain—plus, he’s a mastiff—he’s almost taller than you, someone would have seen him, I should think, and maybe taken him in….” and now he stood up feeling more confident that he could. He turned to look out the window, “it’s likely a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d —maybe be dead ….too,” still as he said this he began walking around the huge room and searching outside through each window, trying not to panic over another crisis, “god,” he said, “that’s all we need now….” 

“The neighbors all know him….” Faun stood up too and began doing what Grant was doing but it was pitch dark out with the exception of the other houses across the street with their lights on —as it was now half past seven in the evening. 

And then the lights of the police cars lit up the road as they looked out.

“It’s the police!” Faun gasped 

Grant glanced at Faun and walked straight to the front door where only moments ago the paramedics had rolled Fiona Bishop out on a stretcher; sheet over her face.

Grant did a quick inhale. Then out. Then stood by the door and watched from the window as four cops got out of two police cars from where they had parked; right out front on the curb. They left their lights flashing on the top of their cars and the spinning, luminous, red cast an eerie light on the evening. It was a formidable image to watch from the living room window of the Bishop’s house. Past the chess pieces, they stormed through, pushing wide the gate and not shy about the pieces they wore on their hip. 

Three very loud knocks followed,

“Police,” the biggest of the four stated through the door—Faun could see him clear from the window 

Grant opened the door. 

In loud pounding footsteps they entered the house, all looking around suspiciously before settling their attentions on Grant and Faun.

“Officer Sullivan,” he held up his badge with terrifying authority and narrowed cold blue eyes on both of them. 

And then it was a long grueling duration of questions, all asked bluntly in fast succession before getting their statements; and in the middle of this —another authority made his entrance; arrogantly cutting in and interrupting the cops’ procedures 

“Who are zese people?” the oily little msn asked Officer Sullivan with a heavy French accent; he wore a long black trench coat and he had dark greasy hair with an odd mustache 

“I’m sorry—and you are?” Grant asked the oily little man 

“I am Chief detective Pierre Reaux!” the little man straightened his back to make himself appear taller as he looked up at Grant, “and I will be investigating the events of tonight!”

It seemed quite unbelievable that any of this was happening; it was like something out of the mystery section, Faun was thinking 

“Did he say Poirot?” Faun looked up at Grant wondering if maybe this was a surreal dream 

Grant wasn’t sure either and looked back at Faun wondering the same thing 

Chief detective Pierre Reaux heard this though and sneered, and with an insulted tone and heavy sarcasm said as he looked down his nose at them, 

“I am not from Belgium—I am from Montreal!”

Faun had a moment to wonder to herself ‘so what are you doing here?’ and rather unimpressed by the man’s arrogance— instead of caring to be embarrassed that he caught the reference (it had to be the shock from the evening) Faun felt outraged! Grant had just found his family member dead —and now this little twit shows up! 

Bishop takes the square; Side street hard boiled mystery

 

After Faun put down the phone, she had the sense that something was wrong as she looked up at Grant; there was slightly more of that troubled look within his intense deep forest eyes with the exception of bright moss in one of them,

“Are you all right?” she had started to move to the cash register to remove the till but he was leaning upon the counter in a brooding manner as he stared dully at the row of volumes of the Oxford English Dictionary, the complete volumes taking up most of the bookcase that was beside the pillar and desk. 

“Erm….” he stared for a moment at the volumes thinking of all the words that must be …. and here he could not find one on how to begin …. finally he looked at her, “I don’t know….” 

The register drawer had popped open with an alarming ring but neither of them seemed aware of it

“Something’s wrong….” Faun said as more a statement than a question 

“Yes—well…. something rather…. quite disturbing and I’m not sure I should bother you with it,” he sighed 

“Is it about the Bishops? —or the bookshop?”

“It’s about Uncle Arthur—well, Arthur I should say as he was not my real uncle as I said and —they married late in life….second marriages, them both ….” he consciously spoke slower now to make sure she caught his words but—he wasn’t sure what he should tell her. Then he shrugged, “damn, I’ll just tell you as this may turn into a—well….I got a call today from the coroner’s office ….”

for a moment those last words hung in the air

At first she wasn’t sure she heard right. 

He watched her face. Such a pretty face too, he thought as he worried now about shocking it, so he raised his dark chestnut thick brooding brows as if to imply his words in case she missed it

It was slightly delayed. She said with s kind of gasp,

“coroners?—you said —did you say coroner’s office?” And her hand went to her throat as she accidentally leaned too hard on the till drawer and it swung back into the register with a loud cash register ring! It was also rather alarming and punctuated the moment 

Grant reached around her and took her first by her slight, narrow shoulders and then outside each arm he placed his hands to move her away from the register,

“yes…. the coroner’s office ….you see, it appears the cause of death was carbon monoxide ….”

“Oh my God!” Faun exclaimed as she thought of the tragedy of Arthur Bishop’s untimely death…. “ I’m so sorry, Grant….” that was the first time she said his name, it just slipped out all on its own and she looked at him

“Well—it’s Aunt Fiona I’m more sorry for….” he said in a hushed tone of regret looking down 

The following silence had Faun’s thoughts considering his words until what he didn’t say dawned,

“oh…. you have to tell her….”

He looked up at Faun now, relieved she connected the dots and then it was the dark, exotic pools of her eyes that lassoed him with their strange almond slant which were looking back at him and now caused him to momentarily forget what he meant to say. 

They were both quiet with their own thoughts for a moment. 

Finally Faun took a deep breath,

“I’ll come with you to tell her—were you going there now?”

Grant let out a sigh of relief,

“yes.”

Faun looked back at the register decisively,

“I’ll balance the till in the morning ….let’s go, we can take my car.”

In the car they were both quiet. It had turned dark and it started to rain as she drove, the wipers on the glass making their antiquated rhythmic sound that felt somehow very reassuring. What is it about old things that can be so comforting in times like this? Faun was thinking. She could have no idea that Grant’s thoughts had been quite similar as he watched the wipers move the rainwater across the windshield making irregular designs where the rubber was coming off the blade

“I should fix that,” he said absently 

“What?” she asked 

She had no idea what he actually said 

But then they were pulling up to the house and suddenly the dreaded deed loomed more uncomfortably for further chat 

“So—I left a message I was coming —so, I expect she knows ….” Grant opened the passenger door and got out.

she had grabbed an umbrella and opened it, raising it high enough over his head as she caught up to him.They walked up the sidewalk together 

The front of the house had high hedges and this gate was flanked not by the usual lions that often decorated pretentious people’s homes but but by two four foot tall, marble, sculpted, chess bishops and for a quick instant Grant paused to caress the top of one,

“he was a good player, I’ll give him that,” he said and glanced back at her before opening the black, iron gate and letting her through before continuing up to the door 

Faun followed behind him, then up the path to the door. 

He knocked, and called through the door,

“Aunt Fiona—it’s me—I’m here with Faun….” 

They waited outside in the dark. 

“No porch light on….” Grant said wondering aloud 

They both looked up to see if there were any lights on in the house that they could see from outside and to get a better view, they both walked back along the front walk to look up at the house to see if any lights were on upstairs. 

“Oh—yes, there—“Faun pointed, “that must be the bedroom—I see a light up there.”

Grant looked up,

“Ok, let’s try again,” he said and went quickly back up the steps to the door.

He knocked. This time the door latch came open and the door swung open.

“Odd,” he said and went in

“I think you should go up alone, maybe she fell asleep and it would be alarming to see both of us in her bedroom,” she said, “I’ll wait a moment—maybe I’ll make tea….?—or ….?”

But she had been here before. And something felt a bit off….the dog!

“Where is King Leopold?”

Grant looked at her and even in the dark it seemed he went pale as a ghost

“Leopold….” he rushed up the stairs 

Faun waited by the door as she watched ….

It seemed an eternity followed ….but was really only less than a minute before she heard him shout,

“Faun!”

She ran up the stairs and followed the light, she found the bedroom and there was Grant standing beside the bed next to…. what was clearly Fiona Bishop but…. she was not moving 

Faun moved slowly to Grant’s side and when she was beside him he said in a barely audible tone,

“oh my god….” he stood frozen, Faun reached for his ice cold hand as he whispered, “I think she’s dead.”