Silent Night: A Raine Stockton Dog Mystery Read Online Free Page A

couple of flannel nightgowns, and two or three velour track suits like the one she wore today.  On the floor there were several pairs of shoes lined up, and overhead there was a collection of shoe boxes.  “You’re going to have to reach way to the back,” she said.   “It’s the one on the bottom…That’s it,” she said as I stood on my tiptoes to push aside the front boxes, dragging one forward with my fingertips.  “Bring that one down here.”
    The shoebox was so old the cardboard was soft around the corners, and part of the name of manufacturer had been worn away.  But it was heavy: heavier than a scarf, and heavier than dog biscuits.  I have to admit, my curiosity was aroused as I handed it over to her.
    Esther tucked the box under one arm, carefully steadying herself as she released the cane, and I automatically put out my hand to hold her elbow.  She removed the lid of the box and smiled as she surveyed the contents.  Inside was a pair of worn and dusty leopard-print pumps.
    “I danced with Jack Kennedy in these,” she said, touching them fondly.
    “No kidding?”  I could see why she would want to hold on to them, and even go to the trouble to make certain they traveled with her to the nursing home.
    “Of course,” she added, “that was back during my CIA days.”
    I stared at her.
    With one last reminiscent smile she replaced the lid on the box and, drawing in her breath significantly, she offered it to me.  “Now, I don’t mean to be giving you trouble,” she said. “This is yours to do with as you please.  You just don’t let those government fellows bully you, understand?  I’ve been keeping these safe for fifty years, and I reckon the time has come to turn the job over to somebody else.  Besides…”  She smiled contentedly.  “My grandson says we’re all going to be rich when we sell my story to the movies.” 
    With every word she spoke my dismay deepened, and by the time she shoved the box into my hands I was just about as confused as I had ever been.   She had always been so sharp and so sensible, but as fascinating as Esther’s life in Hollywood had been, I seriously doubted that the CIA had been after a pair of her leopard-print pumps for half a century.  And I really, really hoped she wasn’t seriously counting on selling her story to the movies in order to finance her trip to California.
      I said gently, “Miss Esther, are you sure you want to give these away?  You danced with a president in them.”
    She looked at me blankly.  “President of what?”
    “The United States?”  I prompted.  “Jack Kennedy?”
    “Pshaw.”  She gave an impatient twist of her wrist.  “He wasn’t President. He was just cattin’ around with Marilyn.”
    I ventured carefully, “Monroe?”
    One of the CNAs, looking perky in a red-felt Santa hat, poked her head in the door.  “How’s everything going in here, Miss Esther?  Are you enjoying your visit with the sweet doggie?”
    Esther rolled her eyes and gave me a knowing look, and for a moment she seemed more like her old self.  I relaxed cautiously.
    The nurse looked at me. “Raine, if you get time will you stop by Mrs. Gunfelder’s room?  She’s been looking forward to your visit all week but she didn’t feel up to coming down to the cafeteria this afternoon.”
    I murmured, “Of course.” 
    But as soon as the door closed behind the nurse, Esther turned and clamped a hand on my arm again.  “Now you remember what I said.  You don’t let them bully you, understand?  The law is on your side.  You get on out of here,” she said, urging me to the door.  “Go on, hurry, and don’t let that box out of your hands until you get home, you hear me?”
    I tried to extricate myself gently but she was a woman on a mission and her grip was like iron.  Finally I said helplessly, “Um, my dog?”
    She blinked a little and released my arm.  I called Cisco to heel.
    I picked up Cisco’s leash and, just