A Catered Birthday Party Part 37

Bernie gazed at her coconspirators in crime. She couldn't help smiling. They were such an unlikely bunch, especially Holly, the potbellied pig that Mrs. McKee had recruited from her neighbor for the occasion, and Otto, the McKees' cat, who was securely if not happily sitting in his cat carrier. Megan had wanted to add one of the parrots in the store to the mix, but saner heads, and the observation that it was too cold for a parrot to be outside even for a short time, had prevailed.

Bernie was only sorry that Trudy couldn't have joined them. But that would have put her back in the Colbert household. And then there was the fact that Ines would probably have called her dad to let him know what was going on.

"Are we ready to get the show on the road?" Bernie asked everyone.

Brandon gave a thumbs-up, Holly snuffled, Samantha and Mrs. McKee both flashed V-for-victory signs, while the cat remained quiet. He was not pleased, a fact he made abundantly clear by trying to scratch anyone who came near his carrying case.

"Then let's get going," Samantha said.

Mrs. McKee, Samantha, and Holly jumped into Mrs. McKee's Ford Explorer, while Bernie, Otto, and Brandon got into Brandon's vehicle.

As they pulled out of Mrs. McKee's driveway, Brandon said, "You know, this is so silly I think it's going to work."

"It will work," Bernie said. "I just prefer you let me get the stealth cam."

"Four eyes are better than two," Brandon told her.

"If we can get in there," Bernie said. She'd been a.s.sailed by a moment of doubt.

"We will," Brandon a.s.sured her. "And even if we don't, this will be very amusing."

Bernie brightened. "That it will be."

Including the potty stop for Holly-"just to be on the safe side," Mrs. McKee explained-it took twenty minutes to get to the Colbert house. Richard Colbert answered the door in his typically gracious manner.

"What do you want?" he demanded of the crowd of people in front of him.

Samantha came forward. "Daddy!" she cried, throwing her arms around him.

Richard tried to take a step back, but Samantha held on fast.

"It's all right. I've always loved you and Anna better," Samantha said. "I've always sensed a mysterious connection between us."

"What are you talking about?" Richard demanded.

He has a look of horror on his face, Bernie thought. She was surprised at the amount of satisfaction that gave her.

"Well, Anna's my real mommy and you're my real daddy. Barron told me everything."

"And we're here to help her move in," Mrs. McKee said. "We've brought Samantha's clothes, her family Bible, and her pets."

Brandon and Bernie put down the boxes and suitcases they were holding and stepped aside to reveal Holly. Richard's jaw dropped.

"This is Holly, Samantha's potbellied pig," said Mrs. McKee, who seemed to have taken charge of the proceedings. "And this is Otto, the cat. He's a tad hostile right now, but I'm sure he'll be fine once he settles down. It only took him four months to stop scratching the furniture in my house."

"Pets? What pets? Samantha doesn't have any pets," Richard squeaked. He seemed to have trouble a.s.similating the situation.

"I have to confess she was boarding them at my house," Mrs. McKee confided. "She thought Barron would be upset if she arrived with them. Poor child. First her mother, then her animals. It would have been too much. And anyway, my child has allergies." Mrs. McKee beamed. "But now she can be together with them. Thank you. Thank you so much. I can't tell you how nice this is of you. Samantha is so lucky."

Holly gave a polite oink. Richard looked as if he was going to choke. Mrs. McKee led the charge inside, with the pig, the cat, Bernie, and Brandon following in her wake. Richard was too stunned to say or do anything.

"My, my," Mrs. McKee said when they were all safely in the house and Brandon had closed the door behind them. "This certainly is a large house. Holly will have lots of room to roam." And with that she unleashed Holly and let the cat out of his carrier.

"What are you doing?!" Richard screamed.

"Why, getting them used to their surroundings, of course," Mrs. McKee said in a tone that made clear the stupidity of the question. "Now, where do you want us to put Samantha's belongings? We have lots more of her stuff in the car."

"Yes, Daddy," Samantha said. "Where do you want me to put my saxophone? I'm trying to get at least two hours of practice in a day. Usually, I try to do it between five and seven in the morning. That way I get it done and over with."

But Richard didn't reply. He was watching in horror as Holly took off down the hall. The cat was close at her heels.

"Oh dear," Mrs. McKee said. "Maybe we should follow. Holly does have a habit of eating things she shouldn't. She's especially fond of Oriental rugs."

"Oh my G.o.d," Richard said. He grabbed his chest. "The Shiraz."

He took off after the pig, along with Mrs. McKee and Samantha. That left Brandon and Bernie by themselves.

"Shall we?" Bernie said. She bowed and extended her hand.

"Lead on, McDuff," Brandon said, "and your loyal henchman will follow."

As Bernie and Brandon hurried toward the room where Richard Colbert stored his wine, they could hear a.s.sorted screeches, oinks, and yells coming from the other wing of the house.

"How long do you think we've got?" Brandon asked.

"Not a clue," Bernie said as they entered Richard's wine room. "I have a feeling Holly's pretty hard to get when she doesn't want to be got."

"Nice place," Brandon observed, looking around.

Bernie had to agree that it was. The room itself was on the smallish side. There were two leather chairs and a small round table in the center. A few feet from that was a bar made out of copper and oak. A variety of winegla.s.ses hung from an overhead wire rack. A wine rack made out of crisscrossed pieces of polished golden oak and filled with bottles of wine sat in the back. The shelves on the opposing two walls were filled with bottles of wine as well.

"He's got enough wine in here to open a liquor store," Brandon observed.

Bernie nodded and pointed to a metal rectangular box b.u.t.ting up against the far wall. "I'm betting that's the wine safe," she said.

"Yup. Here be vintages," Brandon said. "Which means that the camera has to have a view of that."

"Which would put it right behind the bar."

"Exactamundo, Sherlock."

Brandon and Bernie scrutinized the wall in back of the bar. There was a rather large, badly executed picture of three fat men sitting at a table smoking cigars and drinking brandy. Similar pictures decorated the other walls.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Brandon asked.

"That Richard Colbert has terrible taste in art?" Bernie held up her hand. "Just kidding," she said to Brandon as she moved toward the picture.

Brandon did the same. In the background, they could hear the sounds of running footsteps, Mrs. McKee saying, "Oh, I'm so dreadfully sorry. Holly has never p.o.o.ped on a rug before," and Richard screaming, "Get out! I want you out!"

"We'd better hurry," Bernie said as she and Brandon lifted the picture off the wall and propped it against the bar.

The stealth cam was right there, nestled in the cavity that Richard Colbert had made for it. Bernie lifted it out and put it in her bag. Then she and Brandon picked the picture back up and carefully put it back in its place. As she did Bernie could see the small hole in the cigar tip that lined up with the stealth cam's lens. They stepped out from behind the bar.

"I wonder if there are any more cams in here," Brandon said. "I think we should check."

Bernie was about to answer when Richard appeared at the door. He was panting. His hair was a mess. His clothes were disheveled. "What are you doing in here?!" he screamed.

"You don't have to yell," Bernie said. "We were looking for the cat."

"The cat went in the other direction," Richard cried.

"I guess that explains why we couldn't find him," Bernie said as she started edging around him.

"I want you out of here! I want you out of here now!" Richard screamed as he pointed to the door.

Samantha appeared behind him. "Daddy, don't throw me out into the street," she begged.

He turned. She got down on her knees and embraced his legs. "Please," she sobbed.

"Now, now," Bernie said as she got past Richard. "Samantha, it's time to go."

"Don't make me leave my father," Samantha moaned, playing the scene for all it was worth.

Bernie had to look down so she wouldn't laugh. Samantha continued to sob. Brandon went over and lifted her up. Maybe the kid will make it as an actress, Bernie thought as she watched her. She was certainly good at improv.

"Sorry," Brandon said to Richard. "She tends to get a little emotional."

By the time all of them got to the front door, Mrs. McKee was standing there with Holly and Otto. Bernie gave a slight nod to Mrs. McKee. She gathered up Holly's leash and picked up the cat carrier, where Otto was safely ensconced.

"Come, children," Mrs. McKee said. "This is not a nice man after all."

She hurried out the door, with everyone else right behind her.

Sean and Libby looked more than a little surprised when everyone, animals included, came trooping into the Simmons's flat twenty minutes later. Sean was even more surprised after he'd looked at the pictures on the stealth cam.

"Don't tell me how you got this," he said to Bernie and her gang before he called Clyde. "I don't want to know."

After Clyde had had a chance to see the pictures, he said the same thing to them. Then he took a drive out to the Colbert house. Richard and Joanna were packing up when he arrived.

Chapter 32.

Three days later, Sean, Libby, Bernie, Samantha, Brandon, and Trudy reconvened at Mrs. McKee's house to go over the events that had transpired at the Colbert estate. They, plus Mr. and Mrs. McKee and Megan, were sitting around the dining room table eating cupcakes supplied by Bernie, drinking tea supplied by Mrs. McKee, and sipping champagne that Brandon had relocated from the Colbert estate. The only notables absent were Otto, who was sleeping on the upstairs radiator, and Holly, who had a prior engagement at the Longely Elementary School.

Sean, who had already had one gla.s.s of The Widow, was reading the headlines of the local paper for the second time.

"I still can't believe it," Mr. McKee said as he sat down next to Trudy, who was busy licking the frosting off a cupcake wrapper.

Sean tapped the paper with his thumb. "Give me a straightforward criminal any day. That's all I can say."

"So it wasn't Anna?" Mr. McKee said.

"We told you that already, dear," Mrs. McKee said. "It was Joanna."

"The names sound alike," he complained as he fed Trudy a piece of cupcake.

"Only to you," Mrs. McKee said.

Samantha came in from the kitchen with a gla.s.s of water and sat back down at the table. "Well, I'm glad it wasn't Anna."

"You said you didn't care," Bernie pointed out.

Samantha twirled a strand of her hair, which was now pink, around her finger. "Well, I don't. But I do."

Mrs. McKee got up, walked over, and patted Samantha on the shoulder. "Maybe we should invite her over for dinner one night? What do you think?"

Samantha wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Maybe it's too soon," Mrs. McKee said. "Let me know when you're ready."

"It was very nice of you to let Samantha move in with you," Sean told her.

Mrs. McKee looked truly offended. "And let this poor child and her dog live out on the street, when we have a perfectly good empty bedroom and backyard going to waste? She and Trudy can stay as long as they want."

Megan nodded. "I think she has a great acting career in front of her, don't you, Mom?"

"Indeed I do," Mrs. McKee replied.

Brandon nodded his agreement. "Considering the performance she put on at the Colberts, I'd say so."

Libby took a sip of her tea. "I don't understand how you ended up with Trudy," she said to Samantha.

"It's simple," Samantha said. "Annabel is dead and Richard is in jail...so I decided to keep her. n.o.body's said anything."

"That's because no one knows," Sean said.

"Everyone knows," Bernie said. "No one is talking about it."

Sean put the paper down. "I think Ines was sorry to see her go."

"That's not what she said to me when we went to pick her up," Bernie retorted.