“Matters like my pooch party.”
A sheen of sweat developed on his balding forehead. “Mrs. Kingston—”
I held up my hand to stop him from going further. “Every dog brought to any of my pooch parties is a well-trained, well-behaved dog that responds well in social environments, Mr. Morring. Those dogs are constantly exposed to people, volunteers who work with them on a daily basis, and to children who come and help at the shelter. If any of my dogs, and none to date so far, show any aggression toward humans, we don’t bring them. We don’t keep them at the shelter either. And as a member of our city council, you should know that. Those dogs, upon evaluation, are sent to a sanctuary farm about forty-five minutes north of here where they are supported by a grant to feed and care for them until it’s their time to cross the bridge. Our community isn’t in danger. Though,” I thrust my hip to the left and planted my hand on it. “Many of our dogs can tell a bad person when they smell him. I invite you to come to the pooch party this weekend and check that out. See how it works for you, that kind of thing.”
His lip curled and he shook his head as he turned again to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing. I guess you’re getting that replacement you threatened Traci with now after all.”
He pivoted slowly back toward me and stared directly into my eyes. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Kingston.”
I flung my hand up and gave him a little wave. “You too, Councilman.”
As he walked away, I stood there fuming, doing my best to calm my nerves and keep my head from spinning around in circles and flying off, though admittedly, that would have been the perfect event for a Halloween Festival.
Gina Palencia ran up to me as I walked toward the pooch party area. “Missy, thank God you’re here. I’m so sorry this happened. Who let you know? I was just getting ready to call you.”
My heart picked up its pace. “I was just coming to check on the—what’s going on? Was someone else killed?”
Her mouth dropped, and she waved her hand as if to dismiss the possibility. “No, no. Of course not. It’s your area. It’s been vandalized. It’s a wreck. We’ve already called the police. They’re on their way.”
My mood flipped from cranky to panicked in seconds. “My area? It’s what?” I took off at a slow sprint toward the pooch party area, and when I saw it, my blood boiled.
“How did this happen?” I stepped into the middle of the turfed area and stared at the pumpkins smashed all over the place.
“Ma’am, you need to step out of here immediately, and please have one of our team remove your shoes. We don’t want you touching them.”
“But I’m the—” I glanced at my boots which had the insides of pumpkin covering my toes. “Oh, no. You don’t think?” The feint smell of almonds lingered in the air.
The officer guided me from the pooch park over to the makeshift desks. “So, you run this part of the festival?”
I nodded. “I work with the dogs. What’s going on? Do you think there’s cyanide on the pumpkins? I can smell almonds.”
“We can’t be sure, ma’am, but we aren’t taking any chances.”
Another member of the police department, a woman dressed in a white, short sleeve polo shirt and khaki pants with gloves on came over and removed my boots and socks. I’d just bought the things a week before, and they weren’t cheap.
“Wait,” I said before she took them away. “Can you tell me if you smell almonds on them? I can in the air, but I’m not sure I stepped in anything.”
“How ‘bout we keep that decision to the professionals?”
“So what, I’m just supposed to walk around barefoot? In October, at a fairgrounds?” I realized the absurdity of my question, but I didn’t care. Walking barefoot on an often used blacktop area came with its own set of problems.
“Potentially die or walk cautiously to your car? Doesn’t sound like a choice to me.”
And bam, she put me right in my place, a place where there really are stupid questions. “I understand.”
The officer smiled at me. “And we’ll need to get photos of them for prints, too.”
If they’d want to compare those to prints outside of the turfed area, they’d be doing that for months.
Max stepped up from behind me. “Missy, are you okay?”
I turned around and smiled at Max, and then when I caught a glimpse of Rick Morring next to him, I let out a sigh. “Yes, I’m fine Max, thanks for asking.”
“Did you see who did this?”
I shook my head. “I just got here, and I walked right into the splattered pumpkins.” I glanced at my bare feet. “And now I’m shoeless.”
Rick chuckled. “Could be worse.”
Max glared at him. “Bad timing, Rick.”
He blushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.”
I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Of course you didn’t.”
Max’s held swiveled between Rick and I. “Uh, so, do they know anything then?”
I shrugged. “Not that I know of, but since that woman over there in the white shirt stripped my feet, I suspect they’re worried about cyanide poisoning again.”
Rick raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He stared at my feet and then back at the scene playing out on the turf. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to harm the dogs. We all love having them here.”
I wanted to kick him in the shin. “They’re not harming the dogs. That’s someone making a statement.”
“What kind of statement?” Max asked.
“Maybe they’re saying they don’t want the dogs here.” I made eye contact with Rick while I spoke. “And they think if they threaten me like this, I’ll pull out of the festival.”
“Who would do that kind of thing?” Max asked.
I glanced at him. “I don’t know. Rick, who do you think doesn’t want the dogs here?”
I caught the look of anger in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “I don’t have a clue, but I’m sorry, I’ve got an appointment I have to get to.” He smiled at Max. “Max.” When he looked at me, his eyes became little slits of dark brown and white. “Missy.”
As he walked away, I clenched my fists and pressed them into the sides of my thighs. “I do not like that man.”
Max laughed. “Morring? Why not?”
“Because he’s a bold faced liar, that’s why.” I sat on the table in the covered area of the pooch party tent. “Did you know he was arguing with Traci Fielding about getting rid of the pooch party here? He told her he wanted me gone because the dogs aren’t safe for the community, all shortly before I found her.”
He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue slightly forward. When he spoke, I saw the disbelief all over his face. “What? No way. Rick’s always said he loves the shelter programs. Whoever told you that is wrong.”
“No, they’re not, and no, he doesn’t. He made it clear to me just a few minutes before I came here.” I narrowed my eyes and squinted at the turf area. “What if he did this to scare me? What if there is cyanide on the smashed pumpkins? I smelled almonds, by the way. What if he was trying to kill the dogs?” I propelled myself off the table and winced when my bare feet hit the hard, rocky blacktop. I cautiously walked over to the police on the scene as Max walked next to me.
“Missy, no. You’re not going to say something to the police, are you? This is Rick Morring we’re talking about. A city council member.”
I stopped and tried to remain grounded emotionally. “Of course I’m going to say something. I have to. The detective told me to tell him anything I knew. He didn’t say to leave things out that happened after our interview.”
I picked up my speed, tiny rocks be darned. “Excuse me, miss?” I tapped on the back of the police officer in front of me. “Is Detective Bruno coming?”
She flipped around and smiled when she saw my feet. “We’ve got your boots, don’t we? Nice ones. They look new.”
“Thank you, and yes, they are. I’m hoping I’ll get them back. About Detective
Bruno…” I didn’t have to say anything else because the detective appeared a few feet away.
I called out to him, he glanced over at me, smiled, and headed my direction.
“Missy, come on,” Max said. “I know I wanted you to help me with Jake, but you can’t think—”
“Max, do the math. A woman was seen arguing with him about my dogs, and that woman’s dead. Suddenly smashed pumpkin appears in the pooch party turf, just after Rick tells me he wants to eliminate the parties in public entirely. How can you see it differently?”
He exhaled. “You’re right. I can’t.”
I explained my theory to Detective Bruno.
He nodded and took down notes.
“And I saw him at the station when I went to the jail,” I said, my voice stern and determined. “I’m not sure you’ve got the right guy behind bars, detective.”
He smiled at me, and a slight chuckled escaped his lips. “Ma’am, how about you let us do the police work?”
My patience hung by a hair. “Detective, you should at least look into it.” I held up my foot. “I walked into that turf with the smashed pumpkins and smelled almonds. What if there’s cyanide on them? Then you definitely don’t have the right guy for Traci’s death. Am I wrong?”
He eyed my feet, and I blushed because I was in desperate need of a pedicure. “Ma’am, we’re testing the pumpkins, but I think you need to get back to the hospital and have yourself tested just in case.”
I hadn’t thought about that.
“Marx,” the detective hollered to an officer. “Get some plastic booties here for Ms. Kingston and get her to the ER.”
“I can—”
“I’ll go with you,” Max said.
The officer got us to the emergency room in ten minutes, and in traffic to boot. I would have been impressed if my stomach wasn’t all in knots from him weaving in and out of traffic at a speed that had to be ten miles above the speed of light.
I undressed and changed into a cheap hospital gown with strings that tied in the back. I asked the nurse for a second one, so I could put it on backwards and tie it in the front. With Max there, I didn’t want any peep shows happening by accident. Not that he’d see me in it anyway, but just in case.
Everyone that entered the room like before had masks on and special gloves and stayed as briefly as possible. An hour later I had to give Max the key to my house where he picked up a pair of clean jeans, socks, and another pair of boots to bring back for me.
A tall, skinny, and bald doctor that had a face full of Shar Pei wrinkles came into my room. “Mrs. Kingston, I’m Doctor McAllister. We have your test results back.”
“I thought they took twenty-four hours?”
“If you’d gone to a doctor’s office yes, but here, our lab is pretty fast.”
“Am I going to be okay?” I assumed I would be given the fact that I’d been there for over two hours already and was still alive.
He smiled. “We found a small amount of cyanide on your jeans, but further testing of your feet shows no signs.”
“So, there was cyanide in the pumpkin, and it got on my pants?”
“I can’t say where the cyanide came from, but we’re sending the pants over to the police department anyway.”
“But I’m okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you had any touch your feet, which miraculously doesn’t appear to be the case, it was miniscule.” He jotted something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Follow these directions, and if you see any signs I’ve listed, you need to get back to us immediately. In the meantime, my staff will prepare a cyanide antidote kit just in case. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be back.”
“Is this something that will hurt?”
“No, I’m confident it won’t bother you a bit.”
A short time later, Max brought back my clothing and drove me back to the fairgrounds to get my car.
“How many dogs do you have now? I counted two at your place.” He shot me a quick smile as we headed to the fairgrounds.
“That’s all I have now. You didn’t happen to let them out, did you?”
“I did. They both ran to the door and jumped on it, so I figured they needed to take care of business.”
I smiled. “Those are the horrible dogs that are a threat to the community.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? The fact that I could have died, or the fact that someone, very likely your friend and council member, is the one that tried to kill me.”
“Yes.”
I shifted my eyes from the road to him. “You’re forgiven.”
“They’re releasing Jake Fielding.”
“They should arrest Rick Morring. I think he did it.”
“I’m not sure they have a suspect now that Fielding’s in the clear.”
“They need to catch this killer quickly. We have a festival in a few days.”
“Agree, but it’s not that simple. They need solid evidence and there just isn’t any at the moment. At least not that I’m aware of.”
That was ludicrous, and Max knew it. “What else do they need? Another victim?” I leaned my head back on the head rest. “I can’t believe this is happening. All I wanted to do was help these poor dogs find homes, and the festival was the perfect place to do this. If Traci’s death is somehow related to the pooch parties, I’ll never forgive myself, especially if it’s Rick Morring that killed her.”
“They’ll do a thorough investigation, and if they find evidence to charge Rick, they will. You know that.”
“I don’t know what other kind of evidence they need. He’s attached to all of it.”
He pulled into my driveway, shut off his car, and twisted his body to face me. “Missy, you have to look at this from an investigative angle.”
“Like you? You yourself said you’re not the right kind of attorney for this, so how would you know anything about investigating or evidence?”
“I did take some classes on this during law school. And besides, I’ve been a part of this city for years. You know that. I’ve worked closely with the police on all sorts of cases because that’s what city council members do, and this case will be investigated, and they will find out who killed Traci and who tried to hurt you.”
“Not me, my dogs.” I sucked in a breath. “The turf. I’m going to have to replace the turf. The dogs can’t go on it. There could be cyanide in the crevices of the fake grass.” I pulled my phone from my purse and swiped through my contacts looking for the turf company I’d used before.
“Wait. I mean, yes, definitely order more turf. I’m sure the police have taken it by now anyway. But before you throw Rick under the bus, I think you need to dig deeper. Find out more. Rick’s not a bad guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s exactly what you said about Jake Fielding. Is there anyone you don’t like in this town?”
He smiled. “One or two people, but I don’t think either one of them is the killer either.”
“Is there anyone you do think is? Someone that’s a bigger jerk than Rick Morring maybe?”
“Okay, he’s kind of a jerk at times, yes, but I don’t think he’d do anything illegal to stop your program.”
I stepped out of the car. “I appreciate your input, but I don’t want to put my animals at risk because of some jerk that is scared of dogs.”
He’d already jumped out of his car and jogged to me. “I think you’re wrong about whoever did this wanting to hurt your dogs and not you. What if it’s both? What if someone else had a similar conversation with Traci Fielding, killed her, and then decided to just be done with the problem entirely and kill you, too?”
I stopped at my front door and turned around, ignoring the dogs barking in the window. “You think someone else could have done this, and I’m the target?”
“I don’t know, but I think we need to find out.”
And after coming up with a quick plan, that’s what I decided to do.
Chapter Five
&n
bsp; The plan wasn’t all that great, but it was a start, and Sam always said it was better to start with a plan, even if it changed right away.
Oh, how I wished my husband was with me still. What would he think? How would he handle it? Would he fight to have Rick Morring arrested? Would he even agree he was the killer? Probably not. Sam had a sense about things, about people. That’s what made him a good businessman. I missed having him to bounce things off of.
After several minutes of me sitting in the chair with two large and heavy dogs standing on my lap giving my face an icky dog breath washing, which I laughed my way through—with my mouth closed, just in case—I fed the pups and took them for a walk around the property. Sam and I had five acres of land, and I’d always said when we retired to a home in the mountains, I wanted enough land for a dog sanctuary. I’d tried to convince him to let me start one at our current house, but he said five acres wouldn’t be enough space for every dog this side of the Mason Dixon line, and he knew I’d go after them all.
Sam knew me well, better than I knew myself most times.
As we walked, Allie rolled in God only knew what while Bandit jumped and ran and barked at worms. Bandit was afraid of worms, and I understood. Their slimy wiggliness made me uncomfortable, too.
We sat in the gazebo in the middle of the property and stared out at our homemade doggie park, what I’d grown to call our land. I’d brought them a thermos of water and poured it into bowls I’d stored in a small trunk in the gazebo. They took a few sips and dropped to the ground panting to cool off.
I stood and leaned against the railing on the backside of the gazebo, running my hand along the white painted wood, watching the water ripple in the small pond we’d added a few months before Sam died. We’d created the space for a few reasons. We wanted a quiet place on our property where we could sit and relax, forget about the stresses of the day, and just enjoy each other’s company, but we also designed it as a place for Hayden to one day get married. She’d always said she wanted to be married at home, and she loved the idea of an outside wedding. Sam was thrilled to build the gazebo with our help, and I was glad that where she’d planned to marry someday would have a piece of her father there for her, too.
Pooches, Pumpkins, and Poison Page 5