Coins Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I was the prey, and I had been spotted by glowing green eyes, glinting with mischief. Then a black blur flew past me down the stairwell.

In its wake was a scattering of coins. Just to provoke me, Lenoir had knocked over the coin jug at the top of the stairs. She knew I would now pursue her, shouting threats that we both knew would never be carried out.

She entered the kitchen at top speed skidding to avoid the table and chair legs. I slid into the cat's food and water dishes and sent them spinning across the floor.

Lenoir was appalled to find her self soaked with water and pelted with kitty kibbles. She retreated under the table, turned her back to me and began the elaborate process of bathing her fur.

The dog slept through the entire event only to be awakened by a hiss and the slap of a kitty paw on his nose. You see, when things don't go Lenoir’s way, the dog must pay!

Thus began Tuesday morning. The day our neighbor found a body in her snow bank when she went out to pick up the morning paper.
**************************************

Our morning adventures were interrupted by our neighbor, Mary, pounding frantically at our kitchen door. The dog and cat ran for cover, and I jumped as adrenaline shot through me. I reached for the door as I realized who it was.

Mary stumbled through the door, shaking and babbling something about the morning paper. “I haven’t read it yet,” I said dumbly.

“No, no!” she said breathlessly, grasping my shoulders as she tried to make me understand. “I think he’s DEAD!”

“What are you talking about, Mary?” I shook my head trying to clear it. I hadn’t had my coffee yet.

She paused to catch her breath, and her pale face began to show a hint of healthier color. She backed away from me and reached for a kitchen chair and plopped down. “Oh, Maddie,” she moaned. “I can’t believe this is happening. We should probably be calling somebody, but he’s blue and cold and he must be dead. He must be!”

“Who? What are you talking about? Can you show me?” I tried to speak calmly, hoping to calm her down, but I was dying of curiosity.

“Maddie,” she said in a whisper, “there is a dead man in my driveway. He is in the snow bank. He was there when I went to get the paper. Her voice began to rise with panic again, “What do we do?”

“Stay right here, Mary. I’m going to go look.” I headed out the door without my coat and wearing my stringy pink slippers that resembled mops. At first I saw nothing unusual, but as I got past the snow bank at the top of the driveway I saw a leather gloved hand propped haphazardly against the base of the bank near the street. Part of the wrist was exposed. It had a bluish cast to it that made my heart sink. Mary was right, this person had to be dead.

I went no closer. Instead I turned and ran back to the house and grabbed the phone. I calmly explained the situation to the sheriff’s dispatcher and she promised help was on the way. As we had already guessed, the man in the snow bank was beyond any help we could provide.