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  “It looks so much better!”

  Kalico looked down to see Nancy, now wearing a wide brimmed straw hat. She carried a pair of shears, gloves, and a bright purple floral bag. Moody sat beside her, gazing up at Kalico.

  “Thanks.” He watched as the woman and dog made their way to the front garden bed where Nancy began to efficiently deadhead her deep red Celebrity rose bushes. The day was beautiful. The sun felt good on his skin, doves were calling, he was being paid an exorbitant amount for yard work, and Nancy was safe. Kalico began to whistle under his breath as he renewed his attack on the ligustrum.

  Staccato barks brought Kalico out of his reverie. Moody was frantically dancing at the base of the ladder. As he looked down, the little terrier sped across the lawn and stopped at a white mound. It looked as if snow had fallen among the red roses. Then it registered: that white mound was Nancy.

  Kalico flew down the ladder, hit the ground running, pulled his phone from his back pocket, and punched in 911. He knelt by Nancy. “Moody, quiet! Down!”

  “What’s your emergency?”

  “Medical emergency at 3000 Hummingbird Way. Please send help.”

  “An ambulance is on its way. What is the patient’s condition?”

  Kalico felt Nancy pulse—it was rapid and very weak. Her skin was pale, and she was gasping for air. A rash was forming on her left arm.

  Miss Winterjoy appeared at his side. “It’s anaphylactic shock,” she announced. She grabbed Nancy’s purple bag and dumped its contents onto the lawn. She dropped to her knees, quickly sorted through mosquito spray, sunscreen, lip balm, and tissues. “Where’s the EpiPen? Where’s the pen?” Momentary panic welled up in her chest, then she took a deep breath. “Benjamin, go. There should be an EpiPen in the downstairs bathroom. Run!”

  Kalico was running to the house before Miss Winterjoy finished her order. He flew into the downstairs bathroom, threw open the medicine cabinet, and scanned its contents. No epinephrine. He next took the stairs two at a time, found the master bedroom and bath. Again: no EpiPen in the medicine cabinet. As a last possibility, he opened the draw of a bedside table. There. He grabbed the medicine and ran. In the distance he could hear the faint sound of sirens.

  Miss Winterjoy was cradling Nancy’s head in her lap.

  “Got it.” Kalico announced.

  “Hurry. Hurry.”

  He ripped open the packet, swung his arm, aimed the orange tip of the auto injector against Nancy’s outer thigh, and pressed until he heard a click.

  “Got it.” Kalico announced.

  Chapter Seven

  Moody’s whines escalating into the screech of sirens. Kalico running to meet the EMTs, shouting information. Strong hands guiding her away from Nancy. Red lights flashing. EMT’s efficient and brusque: “Sixty-nine year-old female. Anaphylactic shock. One dose, 3 milligrams, of epinephrine administered. Pulse rapid. Patient unconscious.” Red rose petals like splattered blood caught in the gauze of Nancy’s shirt. Kalico’s arm bracing her as the ambulance swallowed the stretcher carrying her dear friend.

  Miss Winterjoy took a shuddering breath as she replayed the events of the last five—or was it fifteen—minutes. Things happened so fast, yet they had seemed to play in slow motion. Now she was positioned in the passenger seat of Kalico’s Civic, barreling down Highway 71 toward South Austin Medical Center. Her mind repeated a single prayer: “Please, God, let her be okay. Please.”

  Kalico glanced over at his client. Her hands, white knuckled, gripped the brown bag in her lap, and her lips moved silently. “Nancy is going to be okay. We got the epinephrine to her, and she’s in good hands. Breathe, Miss Winterjoy.”

  Uncharacteristically following directions, she indeed took a deep breath. She straightened her spine and focused on the road ahead. “How soon…?”

  “Next exit.”

  “Moody?”

  “She’s in the house.”

  “We have to turn back. We need Nancy’s purse.”

  “You’re holding it.”

  “Yes. Oh, yes. It’s got her insurance information. Did you lock the house?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The keys were in her purse.”

  “Connor!”

  “We’ll call him when we get to the hospital.”

  Kalico took the hospital exit and screeched to a halt at the Emergency Room entrance. Miss Winterjoy leaped out of the car and disappeared through the wide, glass doors. After parking the car, Kalico joined her in the crowded waiting room.

  “Any news?” he asked.

  “No. They took her back to a treatment room. The nurse said that a doctor would come out soon.”

  They waited in silence. Coughs echoed throughout the Emergency waiting room. A baby wailed, a pale, young woman shivered in the arms of a young man, and a middle aged woman pressed a white cloth, now pink with blood, against a gash in her hand. Eyes stared glumly at the green doors that led to the treatment rooms. Some people read magazines; others focused on their phones. A couple of people slept.

  Miss Winterjoy, sitting ramrod straight, her hand clutching Kalico’s arm, kept her gaze fixed on the nurses’ station.

  Lynn rushed in. “Aunt Emelia. How is she?” Lynn stooped to hug her aunt, who looked like a tiny, yellow canary—out of place in the gloomy room. She raised an eyebrow at Kalico.

  “They took her back about an hour and a half ago,” Kalico answered. “She suffered a severe allergic reaction to a bee sting, we think, and the EMTs administered a second dose of epinephrine in the ambulance. Once she’s stable, your aunt can go back and sit with her until they ready a hospital room for her.”

  Lynn looked at Kalico quizzically over her aunt’s head and nodded.

  “How about you, Aunt Em? Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Just frazzled. Benjamin has taken good care of me.” Miss Winterjoy smiled at her niece. “Lynn, I’m so glad that you came. But what about your classes?”

  “Not to worry. I found a great substitute.” She settled herself onto a hard metal chair. “Now, tell me what happened.”

  Lynn listened closely as her aunt related the morning’s events.

  “We were so lucky that Benjamin was there,” she concluded.

  “And exactly why were you at the house?” She turned to Kalico, her clear, blue eyes, disconcertingly like her aunt’s eyes, narrowing on him.

  “Just finishing some yard work. You know, trimming shrubs and what not. Have to get those branches off the roof or they could damage it, so…..” God, he was babbling. He stopped.

  “Indeed?”

  Kalico met her gaze, but could feel a flush begin to creep up his neck. “Yes. You know those ligustrum.” He laughed. “They could take over the world.” Shut up, you idiot. He looked helplessly at Miss Winterjoy who smiled benignly and shook her head.

  Lynn continued to gaze at him, then she shrugged. “Thank you so much for helping Nancy and my aunt. Sounds like you were quite the hero.”

  Not sensing any irony in her statement, Kalico blushed to the roots of his hair.

  Lynn turned her attention back to her aunt and opened a large tote bag. She pulled out a thermos and two cups and poured hot, black coffee. “Drink this,” she directed. “You’ve had a shock.” They complied. “Now. I stopped by the house and brought Nancy’s nightgown, robe, and slippers—just in case she has to spend the night here. Aunt Em, I also brought you a change of clothes, a sweater, and your Louise Penny novel.”

  “Thank you, dear. This coffee is just what I needed. Let me have that clean blouse, and I’ll change.” She sighed and looked down at the brown stain on her top. “Nancy, threw up on me after Mr. Kalico—Benjamin—administered the EpiPen.”

  “You go ahead. We’ll hold down the fort here,” Lynn reassured her.

  “Come get me immediately if you hear….” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “We will. Nancy’s going to be fine––God willing.” Kalico and Lynn watched the small figure walk slowly toward the lady’s room. The usual spring in
her step was missing, and she appeared suddenly small and old and fragile. Lynn sighed.

  “She’s tough. She’s shaken but not broken,” Kalico reassured her.

  “Yes. Thanks. She’s such a dear, really. She puts on a façade of being in charge and totally self-sufficient, but….” Lynn stopped. She turned to face him. “Now, Mr. Cat Detective: why were you really at Aunt Emelia’s house? Give.”

  Kalico lowered his eyes.

  “I knew it. Em always does her own yard work. But why does she need a detective?”

  Kalico squirmed. He could not—would not––breach client confidentiality. He closed his mouth firmly, met her eyes squarely, and willed his blush to fade.

  “Why would Aunt Em need a pet detective? Trey and Snow are fine, Perdita is an indoor cat, and Moody never leaves Nancy’s side.”

  Goaded, Kalico frowned. “I am not a pet detective. I’ll have you know that I’m a licensed private investigator for the state of Texas. I’m working on a big insurance fraud case right now and….”

  “And?” Lynn smiled triumphantly. “So why are you working for Aunt Em?”

  He was rescued from answering her when a white-coated doctor and Miss Winterjoy arrived simultaneously. “Doctor, how is she?”

  Doctor Viola Millar looked at the chart in her hands. “Mrs. MacLeod is in stable condition. Her heart rate is still irregular, but the swelling in her throat has subsided. We’re going to admit her to the hospital for forty-eight hours. In fact, we’re taking her up to her room now.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “She was lucky that you administered the epinephrine when you did—a few minutes delay could have proved fatal. We advise all patients with severe allergies to carry an EpiPen with them at all times.”

  “Nancy always has her medicine within reach. Always,” asserted Miss Winterjoy. “For some reason, it just wasn’t in her bag….” She stopped and exchanged a look with Kalico. He nodded.

  The doctor continued. “She’s going to need bed rest and quiet. She’s complaining about pain in her left hip, so we’ll send her to x-ray later this afternoon. She’s asking for an ‘M’ and Moody and Connor?”

  “I’m Em, and Moody is her dog. Please tell her that her little dog is fine and a hero because she alerted us that Nancy was in trouble. We’ve left messages for Connor, her grandson.” Again, she looked pointedly at Kalico who tipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Lynn.

  “I will. Now, you folks might as well get some lunch. You should be able to visit her at one o’clock or so.” The doctor hurried back through the green doors.

  After a few minutes discussion, the trio settled on a plan. Miss Winterjoy would stay at the hospital with Nancy. Kalico would drive Lynn to her aunt’s house to pick up her car and drive it back to the hospital.

  “Here’s a list of what Nancy will need.” Miss Winterjoy was in charge again.

  Lynn read her aunt’s precise handwriting aloud: “Shampoo and conditioner, make-up case, tooth brush, green pants suit, and blood pressure medicine.”

  “Bring Moody over to the house—the boys will keep her company. And, please, call Connor again. Nancy will want him here.” She turned her attention to Kalico. “Benjamin, I know that you have work to do,” she said pointedly. “Thank you. You showed great presence of mind during our crisis. If you hadn’t acted so quickly…” Miss Winterjoy paused, her eyes glistening.

  “It was a team effort.” Kalico surprised Miss Winterjoy and himself by hugging her. “Call me if you need anything, and please let me know how Nancy is doing. I will be in touch.”

  “Yes. Yes, I will.” As she watched the young people walk away and exit the hospital, a new idea began to tease her brain. She smiled to herself, then removed a murder mystery from her purse and began to read.

  ***

  Kalico glanced at Lynn who was perched in the passenger seat of his Civic. As the young woman wrinkled her nose, he became aware that odors of wet dog, sweat, French fries, and something musty pervaded the small space. He rolled down a window. He nodded at the backseat that was piled with dirty clothes.

  “Sorry about that. I haven’t had a chance to do laundry.” Kalico wasn’t about to tell her that he was hauling his dirty clothes to his mother’s house to wash.

  They rode in silence. Kalico maneuvered his little car easily through Austin’s Friday afternoon traffic, replaying the morning’s events. He couldn’t believe that it was only a little after one. Two hours in the emergency room’s gloom had felt like days, and he would not have been surprised if it had been dark outside.

  “The waiting room swallows one, doesn’t it?” Lynn echoed his thoughts. “It’s hard to believe it’s still springtime.” She rolled down her window.

  Aware that she was studying his profile, he wondered what she saw. He hoped that she recognized that he was not a con man intent on duping her aunt out of her life’s saving.

  Kalico commented, “Your aunt is a champ in a crisis.”

  “She is, but I don’t recall ever seeing her so shaken. I would hate to see someone take advantage of her.”

  Kalico choked. “You don’t think that I would…”

  “Then tell me what the two of you are up to—and don’t give me that line about yard work.”

  “I can’t. Really.”

  “You can. Aunt Emelia and I don’t keep secrets.”

  “Sorry. You need to ask your aunt.” He looked at her. Arms crossed, chin out, and eyes narrowed, she looked like a younger and angrier and equally stubborn version of Miss Winterjoy. “It’s no use jutting your chin at me. I have three sisters, and I can withstand all forms of coercion.”

  Lynn sighed. “Can you at least reassure me that she is not in any danger?” Her blue eyes implored him.

  Kalico sighed. “Miss Winterjoy, to the best of my knowledge, is not in any danger.”

  “Ah ha!” Lynn trained her eyes on his face. “Then she must have hired you for someone else. Who could it be?”

  Lynn fell silent, and Kalico gratefully turned onto Hummingbird Lane. As he pulled into Miss Winterjoy’s driveway, Lynn asked quietly, “Is it Nancy?”

  Kalico swore silently under his breath.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? Aunt Emelia has hired you because she’s worried about Nancy.” She sat back triumphantly. “But that’s ridiculous. Who would want to harm Nancy? She’s the dearest person––a children’s librarian, for heaven’s sake.”

  Kalico pressed his lips together, turned off his engine, got out of the car, and crossed the lawn over to the MacLeod house, stopping by the rose bed. A right work glove lay discarded under a shrub beside Nancy’s pruning shears. Her flowered purple bag, its contents sprawled out on the lawn, rested beside a straw hat about three yards from the glove. Lynn bent down to pick up the bag.

  “Stop!”

  “It’s her Vera Bradley bag…” Lynn began.

  “Just give me a moment.”

  Lynn complied. She watched as Kalico took out his phone and began to systematically take pictures. He circled the rose bed, then walked into the center. He knelt down by the discarded glove and shears, rose, carefully plucking something from a shrub. Next he walked to where Lynn stood by the purple bag, noted the spread out contents and took several more photographs.

  “Detective at work?” Lynn asked mildly.

  Kalico nodded, eyes still fixed on the scene. “I didn’t see what happened, so I wanted to get a clear picture of events.” He stopped. He could hear Moody barking from inside the house.

  “Tell me.” Lynn’s gaze was direct and encouraging.

  “Okay.” He pointed toward the front of the rose bed. “Nancy began deadheading the roses here at the front of the bed, placing her bag most likely on the lawn, next to the sidewalk. She moved systematically and efficiently. You can see where she groomed these four bushes.”

  Lynn nodded.

  He moved back into the flowerbed. “She began working on this center one, but sto
pped. You can see where there are still old blooms on the right side that need to be cut.”

  “Yes. This must be where the bee stung her.”

  Kalico nodded. “She dropped her shears and tore off her right glove. Then she ran out. See here and here”––he pointed to white pieces of fabric that clung to several shrubs—“where she snagged her blouse? I think she ran to her bag to get her EpiPen, but when it wasn’t there…”

  “What? Nancy always carried an EpiPen with her when she gardens.”

  “Not this time.” Kalico shook his head, imagining the older woman’s panic. “She started toward the house, but was already having trouble breathing. She collapsed here.” He indicated a spot by the bag where the St. Augustine grass had been flattened and trampled by the EMT’s.

  “Go on,” Lynn encouraged.

  Kalico’s shoulders slumped, and he suddenly felt tired. “Well, I heard Moody barking, but didn’t pay attention until she stood right below the ladder, barking and circling. That’s when I saw Nancy. I called 911. Seconds after I reached her, your aunt appeared. She yelled at me to get an EpiPen from the house, and I just ran, found one, gave Nancy an injection, and the EMT’s appeared.” Kalico took a deep breath, remembering his own panic when he could not find the medicine.

  The young people looked at one another, the silence broken only by Moody’s barks that were now punctuated with a kind of whine-yodel.

  “You don’t think that Nancy was a victim of foul play, do you Ben?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Foul play? Been reading Sherlock Holmes lately?”

  “No, Agatha Christie, if you must know. But seriously, do you think that someone tried to hurt Nancy?”

  Kalico ran his hands through his hair making it stick up at odd angles. He did not want to involve Lynn without Miss Winterjoy’s permission. “No,” he asserted. “She was the victim of a bee sting. Pure and simple.”