Clean. You’ll smell the house before you see it, so you might want to wear a hazmat suit.” Randy’s tone suggested that he was only half joking. The game warden then gave us a casual wave and headed down the driveway.
Tina said, “I’ll stay out here with the body, if you guys want to look for any evidence in the house.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Before we go inside, let’s take a walk around the exterior,” said Ash. “Someone I love once told me that we don’t know how large the crime scene is until we look.”
The rain started to come down harder as we went to the front of the house. Even in the dim light, I could see evidence that this had been a well-maintained home. The porch was tidy and the custom front door featured a large oval of leaded and stained glass configured to look like a white rose. Even the vinyl siding looked fairly new. I took some photos and then headed around the corner of the house.
Now that we were out of Tina’s hearing range, I said, “You did a great job there with Longstreet.”
“It wasn’t that big a deal,” said Ash.
“Sorry, love, but I’ve got to disagree. So does Tina. That’s why she’s thinking about offering you the full-time deputy’s position again.”
We stopped to look at the side of the house. There wasn’t much to see. Just four windows, more white vinyl, and a row of plump holly bushes growing in the flowerbed next to the house. I handed Ash my cane and took some photos while waiting for my wife to say something.
Ash finally said, “Brad, honey, I really enjoy being an auxiliary cop and I know that Tina is having trouble finding a new deputy, but I just don’t want the job.”
“Why not?”
“ Why not? ” Ash has a way of cocking her head and gaping at me when I’ve said something she considers irredeemably stupid. “For twenty-five years the only times we saw each other were on weekends—when you weren’t called out to some murder—or when you took vacation. And how often were those canceled because you were needed at a homicide trial?”
“More times than I’d care to remember,” I said quietly.
“Don’t feel bad. It’s simply the way things were. But now I have the chance to be with you, and that’s all I really want. Besides, I want to open Ursa Major with you, and I couldn’t do that if I were working as a full-time deputy.”
Ursa Major was our proposed name for the teddy bear shop and museum we wanted to open. The idea for the business was Ash’s brainchild. She’d unexpectedly come up with the notion back in late September, while dusting some of the antique and award-winning bears from our collection. Ash had idly commented that it was a shame other people couldn’t enjoy our bears, which sparked an epiphany. A few days and obviously a great deal of thought later, she revisited the issue and revealed to me her plan to open a teddy bear emporium that would double as a museum. The business would primarily feature stuffed animals made by the Massanutten Teddy Bear Artist Guild, a crafting club she’d established the previous year, but would also carry a selection of bears made by some of our favorite artists. Her hope was that Ursa Major would become both a tourist attraction and a successful bear shop.
I was skeptical at first, but her enthusiasm won me over and we developed a business plan. Things had progressed quickly, and we’d identified a possible site for our business—an abandoned Victorian-era home on the outskirts of Remmelkemp Mill. We’d already toured the house once and planned to meet the real estate agent tomorrow to take a second look at the property.
Ash took my hand. “I enjoy working patrol once a week as an auxiliary, but I don’t want to give up the freedom to pursue our dreams. I’ve waited too long for this part of our lives.”
“Was it worth the wait?”
Ash leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “Absolutely. Now, let’s get back to work.”
We walked around to the back of