I Shall Not Want
“Not one.”
“What about the other protestors? Did officers on the scene interview them as well?”
“None of them were present when we arrived; they had all left beforehand, and not by much either.”
“Strange.”
“That’s not the half of it. All of them were petty criminals; that’s how we identified them.”
“They took off before the police could show. That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me. Did someone tip them off?”
“Possibly. It’s also possible that they were only supposed to be there at a certain time, to cause confusion.”
“But how would you organize this many?” Mark asked as Paul handed him a stack of mug shots.
“Simple. We’ve already run down half a dozen of them this morning, and their stories all match up.”
“Yes?”
“They were paid to stage the protest.”
“By whom?”
“You’re going to hate this,” Paul said.
“I bet I am.”
“Joseph Coulter.”
The doorbell rang, and Cindy went to answer it. Joseph stood there with a case of sparkling cider and Clarice and Buff. “I hope you don’t mind; I brought Buff too. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“He’s more than welcome,” Cindy said, opening wide the door.
The dogs bounded inside and immediately made their way to her couch. She smiled at the sight. Joseph carried the sparkling cider into the kitchen, where Geanie squealed in delight. Cindy had her suspicions that the squeal was actually for Joseph and not the cider.
“We told you that was too much!” she heard Geanie giggle.
“And I told you these things have a way of spinning out of control,” Joseph said.
As Cindy walked into the kitchen, she saw Geanie flicking Joseph with a dish towel. He grabbed another one and flicked her back until they were both laughing.
Cindy couldn’t help but laugh as well at the two of them. The doorbell rang again, and she went to find Geanie’s friend waiting there, a loaf of fresh-baked bread in her hands.
“How did you know we needed bread?” Cindy asked with a smile.
“I must be psychic,” the woman said.
“More like psychotic,” Geanie teased as she walked in and hugged her friend, then took the bread and ran back to the kitchen.
The oven timer went off, and Cindy hurried to the kitchen and removed the turkey from the oven. The aroma was overwhelming, and everyone around her made excited sounds. She put the turkey on the counter and loosely covered it with a clean dish towel. It had to cool a while before she could cut it.
She listened to the others chattering around her, and she realized that this was what Thanksgiving was all about. It was gathering together. Friends, family, strangers, all sharing the simple joys of talking and laughing and eating together.
She heard the front door open and turned. “Hello in the house?” a familiar voice called.
She went into the family room and was glad to see Jeremiah standing there. Next to him was Bernadette. Ginger jumped out of her arms and raced over to join the other dogs on the couch.
“Welcome, all,” Cindy said.
“I brought flowers for the table,” Bernadette said. “It isn’t polite to show up empty-handed.”
She handed Cindy a bunch of wildflowers that had been freshly picked. “Thank you,” Cindy said, touched by the thoughtfulness.
“I guess that makes me the rude one,” Jeremiah said sheepishly. “I didn’t bring anything.”
“Sure you did,” Bernadette said. “You brought me!”
They both laughed at that while Cindy stared at them.
“He saw Ginger and me walking this way about two blocks back, and he gave us a ride,” Bernadette said.
“Well, I’m certainly glad he did. Now we’re all here,” Cindy said.
She took the flowers and found her only vase under the sink. Soon the flowers graced the table, and to her they were more beautiful than all the expensive decorations her mom always had.
Together she and Geanie shooed everyone else out of the kitchen. The others went into the living room and played with the dogs. Cindy had Jeremiah lie down on the couch previously vacated by the dogs.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been a lot better,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Nonsense. No one should be alone on Thanksgiving. We’ve got about half an hour until dinner; rest until then and rest afterward.”
Cindy returned to the kitchen and found Geanie making gravy.
“I thought you couldn’t cook?”
“It’s the one and only thing I can do. I watched my grandmother do this for years.”
“Frankly, I’m relieved. I was not looking forward to tackling that.”
“I’d far rather try this than carve the turkey.”
“Yeah, this should be interesting,” Cindy said as she uncovered the bird.
Geanie walked out into the living room. “Anyone here know how to carve a turkey?”
“I do,” Bernadette said.
“You’re drafted.”
Bernadette came into the kitchen, washed her hands thoroughly, and then took the carving knife from Cindy reverently. “It’s been a long time since I was asked to carve a bird.”
“We’re grateful to you for doing it,” Cindy said.
“Here, let me show you how,” Bernadette said.
Cindy watched, fascinated, as Bernadette carved the bird, and by the end she wasn’t entirely convinced that she could replicate the method, but she thought she might be willing to try.
As Cindy carried the platter of meat to the table, she called everyone to sit down.
“Jeremiah, would you offer up a prayer for us?” she asked once they were all seated.
He looked at her, startled. “Me?”
“Unless there’s another rabbi in the room,” she said.
“Adonai, we ask your blessing upon us this day and this meal we share. May it honor you.”
“Amen,” the others chorused.
Jeremiah picked up a glass of sparkling cider. “L’chaim.”
“To life!” everyone else roared in unison.
They all drank, and as Jeremiah set down his glass, he remarked, “Everyone here has seen Fiddler on the Roof, I take it?”
Cindy nearly spewed her cider. She managed to swallow it and laughed along with everyone else.
Silence descended as they all began to eat.
When they were finished eating, Joseph began clearing the table. Geanie stood up and grabbed Cindy’s hand, dragging her toward the back of the house.
She pulled her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.
“Geanie, what’s up?” Cindy demanded.
“I needed to talk to you in private.”
“And we couldn’t have talked in the bedroom or the office?” Cindy asked, incredulous.
“I have a problem. I think Joseph likes me.”
Cindy smirked. “Yes, because tall, dark, and rich is sooo unattractive.”
“I’m serious! I don’t date people from work.”
“Joseph doesn’t work at the church.”
“I know, but he’s a member, so it’s kind of like dating a coworker.”
Cindy looked her in the eyes. “Geanie, sometimes you just have to take a chance.”
Geanie took a deep breath. “You’re right. Some things are worth the risk.”
“That’s right, now go get him.”
They exited the bathroom and walked back into the living room. Geanie approached Joseph, who was just putting the pies down on the table. When his hands were free, he turned to her. Geanie put her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.
Cindy blinked in surprise.
Geanie stepped away, and Joseph stared at her for a moment before putting a hand behind her head and pulling her back.
“What on earth did you say to her?” Jere
miah asked Cindy as Joseph and Geanie kissed.
“Go get him. I thought maybe she’d flirt, or ask him out to coffee or something.”
“Well, that’s definitely something,” he said, laughing and coughing all at once.
“Yeah, it sure is. Can I get you apple or pumpkin?”
“Pumpkin, please.”
Cindy walked over to the table, cut a slice of the pumpkin pie, and put it on a plate. She carried it back to Jeremiah, along with a clean fork.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
She returned to the table and took her seat. Geanie and Joseph both took theirs as well, and Geanie set about serving the pie. A minute later Cindy was biting into apple pie that was surprisingly good.
“Wow, Geanie, you’d never know this wasn’t homemade,” Cindy said.
“Thanks.”
There was a loud knock on the door. Cindy jumped up to get it. When she opened the door, she was stunned to see Mark and Paul standing there, a couple of uniformed officers behind them.
“What’s happened?” she asked, fear flooding through her. “Has someone else been killed?”
“We need to come in,” Mark said, not looking her in the eyes.
She stepped back and opened the door wide. The policemen rushed inside, and the uniformed officers pulled Joseph up from his seat at the table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jeremiah sit up with a start.
“Joseph Coulter, you’re under arrest for the murder of Derek, Larry, and several others,” Mark began.
“What?” Cindy gasped. Joseph turned to look at her, shock and fear mingling together on his face.
“This is preposterous,” Geanie flared, standing up.
“Everyone settle down!” Paul said, his deep voice booming and freezing everyone in place.
“You have to be kidding, you know he couldn’t have done this,” Cindy pleaded, staring at Mark.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Mark continued as Joseph was handcuffed. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Cindy turned to look at Jeremiah. His eyes were cold, hard, and when he caught her gaze he shook his head, almost imperceptibly.
“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the court,” Mark kept going.
The officers were at the door, hauling Joseph outside. Cindy turned and looked, and realized that the squad car was parked on her lawn. Clarice appeared next to her, and a low, rumbling growl came from the dog.
“Cindy! Take care of Clarice,” Joseph begged.
Cindy laid her hand on the dog’s head, and then slipped her fingers around the plain red collar she now wore. She could feel the tension running through the dog. If she attacked the police, though, it would just make the whole situation worse for everyone involved.
“Ssh,” she soothed.
She watched, helpless, as they pushed Joseph into the back of the squad car. With a sob Geanie finally moved, racing over next to Cindy. Together they stood and watched as the car left, Joseph slumped in the back of it.
Cindy turned to Mark. “How could you?” she demanded.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said. “We have evidence that he did it, and we had to move before anyone else got hurt.”
“You could have warned me, called, something.”
“That’s not how we do things,” Paul said. “Come on, Mark, they’ll need us at the station.”
As the detectives drove away, Geanie began to sob uncontrollably. Cindy felt a hand descend on her shoulder and twisted around to see Jeremiah staring intently at her.
“If he’s guilty, this is for the best. If he’s innocent, we’ll make sure he’s cleared,” he promised.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She closed the door and let go of Clarice, who whined and scratched at it. Geanie staggered over to the table and collapsed back into her chair. Everyone pushed their half-eaten pie away from them. It was a shame, Cindy thought, it had been really good pie. Joseph had been right. Thanksgiving had spun completely and utterly out of control.
14
AFTER EVERYONE HAD FINISHED PICKING AT THEIR DESSERTS AND THE FOOD had all been put away and the dishes washed, the party broke up.
Geanie’s friend left, offering to drive Bernadette and Ginger to the shelter, and they went with her. For a minute Geanie, Jeremiah, and Cindy just stared at each other. Clarice finally stopped whining and settled down with a look of misery on her face.
Cindy looked at her and felt bad for the dog. She glanced around the room. “Where’s Buff?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t seen the puppy since the police arrived.
The other two looked around as well and then shook their heads. Cindy lurched to her feet. “Buff?”
Oh, please, not again. “Buff!”
Clarice jumped to her feet and whined.
“Did he run outside when the door was open?” Geanie asked. “We might not have seen him in the confusion.”
“I don’t know,” Cindy said, looking under the table and then checking behind the sofa.
“I’ll check outside,” Geanie said, exiting the front door.
Jeremiah stood up from the couch. “Let’s check the back, start closing off rooms as we clear them.”
She nodded, and together they moved down the hall. A quick look in the bathroom and they were able to close the door. Next they searched her bedroom, checking under the bed and behind the furniture. Finally they closed the door and moved on to her office.
Fear was mounting in Cindy. They were running out of places to look. What if he had gotten outside and was lost again? It had been such a triumph to find him, and it would be devastating to lose him again, especially given what had just happened to his owner.
Cindy checked behind the filing cabinet while Jeremiah crawled under her desk.
“Found him,” Jeremiah said at last. “He’s wedged between the computer and the wall.”
Relief flooded through her, and she crossed to him. Jeremiah pulled the puppy out and then handed him up to her. She took Buff from him, and then Jeremiah stood up.
“I’ll tell Geanie we found him,” he said.
Cindy followed him into the living room and then sat on a chair, still holding the puppy. He was shaking and whimpering deep in his throat. Every time she petted him, he jerked.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
Jeremiah returned with Geanie.
“Something really terrified him,” Cindy said.
“Well, it could be because he just saw his owner arrested,” Geanie said, voice cracking.
Cindy glanced up at Geanie and realized that the other woman had been crying.
“He saw him leave, gut I doubt he would have understood the context,” Jeremiah said.
“And he wasn’t shaking like this when we found him wandering the streets, lost and hungry,” Cindy said. “No, I think it’s something else. I just don’t know what it could be.”
“If only he could tell us,” Jeremiah said.
“I think I need to go home,” Geanie said.
“Are you going to be okay?” Cindy asked.
Geanie nodded.
“Will you be okay with the dogs?”
Cindy looked at Buff and Clarice and realized that even if she had a way to get them into Joseph’s home, there was no one to look after them. “I guess I’m going to have to be,” she said.
“Do you need me to drive you?” Jeremiah asked.
“No, I’ve got it. Thanks,” Geanie said. “It was a great dinner,” she said, looking at Cindy.
Cindy nodded.
Geanie left a moment later, and Cindy and Jeremiah were alone with the dogs. Cindy petted Buff, stroking his head and then his back. There was a rough spot on the back of his neck and she glanced down at it. The fur had been shaved in one small spot.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked.
“There’s a smal
l shaved spot here,” she said, pointing.
“I noticed that Ginger had one as well. Bernadette told me the people she adopted him from said that was where they inserted the needle when they chipped her. They said the fur would grow back in a week or two.”
“That’s right. Joseph said all the dogs that were going to be adopted were chipped.”
“Mystery solved,” he said and then began to cough.
“You don’t look so good.”
“I’m feeling worse.”
“I’m sorry, you probably should have stayed in bed all day. I shouldn’t have forced you to come.”
“No, I was glad to be here. And trust me, you didn’t force me to do anything.”
“Do you need me to drive you home?”
“I can manage.”
“If you want to crash on the couch, you’re welcome to,” she said. “I’ve got flu medication and plenty of food.”
He smiled. “Is this the same woman who was worried that it would create a scandal if she had pizza at my house?”
Cindy shrugged. “I doubt there’s much else we could do today to cause more scandal here than has already happened.”
“You might be right. Just the same, I think I just want to go home and fall asleep in my own bed.”
“Fair enough. Can I send some leftovers home with you? I forgot to ask anyone else.”
“Sure.”
Cindy got up and prepared him a couple of plates of food, which he accepted with a smile before heading on his way.
With the house quiet, Cindy found herself at a complete loss. She fed and walked Clarice and Buff, but Clarice’s anxiety over the absence of her master communicated itself to Cindy until she found herself pacing her apartment alongside the dog.
Joseph couldn’t possibly be involved in whatever had been happening. There was just no way he was a killer. Or was he? Was it actually possible that every guy she’d had dinner with in the past year, possibly in her entire life, was a killer and she just couldn’t see it? After all, she had gone to dinner with a killer over Easter.
She shook her head emphatically. Not every guy. She had shared pizza with Jeremiah and he was certainly no—
She stopped pacing and sunk down onto the couch. Jeremiah was a killer. He had shot and killed the serial killer at Easter when the man had been holding her captive with a knife at her throat. That was different, though, he had acted because he had to. There was nothing cold-blooded, illegal, or immoral about his actions.