by V. M. Burns
Joe stepped forward. “I don’t think so.” He pulled out his shield and flashed it at Michael Cunningham. “We’re not turning over the dog until you provide proof of ownership.”
Michael Cunningham looked shocked.
“I’m sure the local police will also want to question you for animal abuse and cruelty,” Stephanie said.
Michael Cunningham replaced his facial expression with one of outrage and indignation. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
Stephanie reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her business cards and handed it to him. “Good. Have him call me.”
Michael Cunningham marched to the door and let himself out.
I stared at Dixie. “Wow, how did you know he could do all of that?”
Dixie shook her head. “I didn’t, but when he went down when Joe gave the German command, I thought it was worth a shot.” She looked at Stephanie, who was on her knees hugging and petting the golden retriever. “Someone has spent a lot of time training this dog. I don’t know how much he knows, but he isn’t just a pet.”
Stephanie buried her face in the golden’s coat. “I don’t care. I love him.”
Joe, Dixie, and I exchanged looks that said, This isn’t going to be good. Stephanie was obviously attached to the dog. When the owner was found, she was going to have to relinquish him, and that would be hard.
Turbo whined, and Joe released him from his forced position and removed his harness, which told Turbo he was no longer working and could return to play, which suited Aggie just fine.
Turbo stretched, with his front paws down and his rear in the air, indicating he wanted to play. Aggie returned the pose, and a chase ensued. Initially, I had been concerned about my six-pound poodle playing with a male police dog who was ten times her size. However, Turbo surprised me by the gentle way he played with her. He literally treated her as gently as a puppy should be treated. When Dixie’s two standard poodles were around, the play was a lot rougher, but still, all the dogs demonstrated tremendous restraint with Aggie. Nevertheless, Dixie, Joe, and I always kept a close eye whenever Aggie played with them to make sure she didn’t get injured accidentally.
A loud whine from the golden indicated he wanted to join in on the play. Stephanie unhooked his leash, and he quickly joined in the chase. Aggie grabbed a stuffed toy and zipped around the room. The larger dogs gave chase. Aggie was fast and could turn on a dime, something that was a lot harder for the bigger dogs, who often slid for a few feet when they tried to turn, carried away by their momentum. The golden was still slower from his surgery but he was smart and managed to play without exerting himself too much.
We stood and watched the dogs play for several seconds.
“Were you going someplace?” Stephanie asked.
I remembered the cookies and once again started out to apologize to Mr. Livingston. Dixie and I hurried outside and quickly made our way across the lawn. Just as we reached the front door of Mr. Livingston’s house, one of the curtains moved. Before we could ring the bell, the door flew open.
“How dare you traipse across my lawn,” Livingston bellowed. “You’re trespassing.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and held up my tin of cookies. “I’m very sorry. I—”
“Come to do me in like you did that other fellow?”
Heat rose up my neck. “I didn’t kill anyone.” I took a deep breath. “Actually, I wanted to apologize.” I held out my tin of cookies.
He sneered. “Is that how you did it? Poison?”
“Good grief.” Dixie reached over and pulled the lid off the tin. She took a cookie out and shoved it into her mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with these cookies, you crazy old coot!”
Theodore Livingston flushed. “Get off my property.” He snatched the tin out of my hands. “And stay off my grass.” He slammed the door in our faces.
Dixie and I stared at the solid door for nearly a minute before we turned around and walked away. This time we were careful to walk on the sidewalk.
We ran into Carol Lynn Hargrove and Jackson Phillips at the end of the walk. I was curious if something romantic was going on between the two, but I didn’t notice any particular demonstrations of affection. Besides, it was none of my business.
“Visiting our local crackpot?” he asked.
“Actually, I went over to apologize. I took a peace offering.”
Carol Lynn chuckled. “I’ll bet the cheap geezer took your offering, but not your apology.”
“How did you know?” I asked.
“I know Theodore Livingston. Now you see why no one was shocked when you hit him. He’s an odious old fart.”
Dixie snorted. “It’s a wonder all you did was strike the old fool. I would have strangled the mean old snake.”
Chapter 8
It took two more shortbread cookies and a cup of hot chocolate before I calmed down. Dixie required something stronger. Having already consumed two martinis, her limit, she went home so she could indulge without the worry of having to wend her way up the mountain.
When I sat down, I sensed the atmosphere was different. On the surface, Joe and Stephanie looked much the same. However, there was a static current floating between the two of them, and the room was charged.
Turbo napped on the floor next to Joe, with his head on Joe’s foot. Across the room, Stephanie sat on the floor and stroked the golden’s head, which was resting in her lap. Periodically, his tail wagged, and he looked into her eyes adoringly. Aggie lay perched around my shoulder like a fur stole.
“What’s going on?” I asked when the tension got to be too much.
“Nothing!” They both snapped so quickly it was obviously a lie.
Nevertheless, I waited.
Stephanie cracked first. “He thinks I should turn the golden over to that odious man without a fight.”
“That’s not true.”
She turned to glare at him. “Did you or did you not tell me I should surrender the dog?”
“I did, but—”
“I rest my case!”
“I hate when you talk to me like I’m some criminal in the witness box.”
“I hate when you act like a cop and use words like ‘surrender the dog.’”
His eyes flashed. “I am a cop, and you know as well as I do you have no legal right to that dog.”
“That’s not true. He escaped from an abusive owner and came here seeking sanctuary.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know he was cold and hungry and in need of medical attention.”
“He could have gotten spooked and run into traffic. You don’t know how he injured his leg.” He spoke softly, “Somewhere out there is a person or family who spent a lot of time and money training him.”
The eyes were a mirror into the soul, and Stephanie’s eyes looked stricken. “How would you feel if someone tried to take Turbo?”
He hesitated. “I’d probably want to break their neck.” He paused and looked at Turbo and then across at Stephanie. “But there’s a difference,” he said softly. “Turbo is my dog. Unfortunately, this dog doesn’t belong to you.”
Tears streamed down her face, and she buried her head in the golden’s coat. “That’s where you’re wrong. He absolutely belongs to me.”
Joe looked across at me.
I shook my head. Stephanie knew right from wrong, and if there’s one thing I knew about my daughter, it was that she would always do the right thing.
The rest of the evening was thankfully uneventful. I was exhausted and made an early night of it.
I lay down, unsure whether I’d sleep or if visions of my landlord’s face would be etched into my brain. I contemplated taking a melatonin, but before I could make my way to the bathroom to get the pill, I was asleep. My next conscious thought was trying to figure out what the weight I felt
on my chest was. When I opened my eyes, it was Aggie. Six pounds could feel like a ton when it was pressed on your chest.
In the morning, I moved Aggie into her crate while I showered and got ready for work. She wasn’t happy about the move, but it was easier than worrying about what she might do to the landlord’s floors. Although I wasn’t quite sure what to expect now that the landlord was dead. Would my lease still be honored, or would I have to find yet another place to live? I made a mental note to ask Stephanie later.
Once I was dressed, I got Aggie and put her outside to take care of her business. When I went into the living room, I saw Stephanie and Joe asleep on the sofa. She had her head on his shoulder, and he had his arm wrapped around her. Apparently, they had resolved their differences. The golden and Turbo were also curled up on the floor beside the fireplace.
I tried not to make any noise, but these wood floors squeaked more than I remembered.
“Mom?”
I turned and whispered, “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No need to whisper. I’m up.” Joe stretched.
“I’m just leaving for work. Go back to sleep.”
Stephanie stood up and stretched. “What time is it?”
“Early.” I looked at the clock on the microwave. “Seven.”
Joe got up and opened the door to the deck, where Aggie was scratching to come in. Turbo and the golden got up and walked out. “I’ll just let the dogs out.” He walked outside and closed the door behind him.
“Did you two make up?” I asked casually.
Stephanie shrugged. “Let’s just say we reached an agreement.”
“Okay.” I waited for her to elaborate.
She walked to the cabinet and got two mugs and two single-serve pods and pressed brew. “I agreed to make a good-faith effort to find the owner. I will contact the shelters, post flyers, and notify the local police. Last night, we posted on some online bulletin boards and social media sites. We agreed that if the owner doesn’t come forward with valid proof of ownership within a reasonable amount of time, then I’m keeping him.”
“What’s the reasonable amount of time?”
She smiled. “We’re still negotiating.”
“Good luck!”
I left Stephanie and Joe to take care of Aggie and hurried off to work. I felt horrible for missing work after only having been on the job for one day. So I stopped at Da Vinci’s and picked up an assortment of pastries, donuts, and tarts as an apology-please-forgive-me peace offering. I parked where Jacob had told me to park and juggled my box of pastries, my purse, my keys, and the employee card key that unlocked the door. I managed to get the door unlocked, but pulling it open proved to be too much. My bundle shifted, and I nearly dropped everything. In the split second before catastrophe hit, I made a decision. I dropped everything else and clutched my box of pastries like a life preserver.
“Here, let me help you with that.”
A tall, handsome, well-groomed man came up behind me and picked up my scattered belongings. He then took the card key from my mouth and waved it in front of the card reader. I heard the click, and he opened the door.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He spoke with a slow Southern drawl. “It’s not every day I get to come to the aid of a beautiful woman.” He smiled.
Heat rose up my neck, and I knew I was blushing like a silly schoolgirl, but it had been a long time since anyone had flirted with me. I was out of practice. Then I did something I hadn’t done in over thirty years. I giggled.
“Perhaps you’d allow me to carry these items for you.”
“Really, that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to impose.”
“Impose? Why, it would be my pleasure.”
Another giggle escaped, and I quickly turned and entered the building. This wasn’t the same door I’d entered the day before yesterday, and I was slightly turned around, but I stopped and got my bearings. I turned left and walked a short distance to the elevator. I faced my rescuer. “If you’ll just press the button, I can take it from here.”
He pressed the button, and the doors quickly opened.
Once inside, I turned and smiled. “I can take it from here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He held up my purse and keys.
“No, really. Thank you. I’ve got it.”
Jacob walked into the elevator and took the pastry box, so my hands were free.
I took my purse and keys. Jacob glanced at the stranger and did a double take. “Hello, Freemont.” Before the stranger could respond, he used his elbow to press the button for the top floor, and the doors closed right in the stranger’s face.
“Freemont?” I turned to look at Jacob.
He nodded. “Freemont Hopewell.”
The heat rose again. “I had no idea. I was struggling with the door, and he just came up and helped me.”
“You really had no idea who he was?”
I shook my head. “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He smiled. “Well, that depends. Are those pastries from Da Vinci’s?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “All is forgiven.”
The elevator doors opened, and Jacob stood in the doorway so I could precede him before following along behind me.
I went to my office and unlocked the door. By the time I hung up my coat and put my purse and keys away, I could smell the glorious aroma of coffee. I followed my nose to Linda Kay’s office and stood outside the door and inhaled the wonderful fragrance. On the conference table, the pastries were displayed on a beautiful silver tray. Even from a distance, I could tell the tray was real silver and worth a small fortune. Next to the tray was a French press.
“Come in.” Linda Kay smiled and motioned for me to enter.
I looked over the spread. “Wow. You really know how to entertain.”
She motored from behind her desk to the conference table.
Jacob placed cloth napkins on the table next to silver tongs and bone china cups and saucers.
“Well, if you’re going to eat, you might as well do it in style.” Jacob smiled.
“Access to beautiful things is one of the perks of working in a museum. However, I don’t believe in putting your best items away on a shelf and only using them once or twice a year.” She put a napkin on her lap. “The antiques in our possession weren’t just for holidays and special occasions. They were used on a daily basis.” She took a sip of the coffee that Jacob had poured for her. “Some of these were gifted by the family, and some are items I’ve collected over the years. Unless the pieces are delicate or fragile, we use them.”
“Well, this is amazing. Everything looks so nice and inviting.” I smiled.
“Good. Then, let’s eat.” Linda Kay picked up a silver fork and cut into a strawberry tart. “I just love Da Vinci’s strawberry tarts.” Gooey filling oozed out of the sides of her mouth.
Jacob poured coffee into one of the cups and handed it to me, and then sat down and tucked into a cheese Danish.
Settled at the conference table with pastries and coffee, we ate in a companionable silence for several moments, savoring each delicious morsel. The only noise was the clink of our silverware or the clank of the china cups as they hit the china saucers. From time to time, an occasional and unconscious moan of delight escaped one of our lips.
After two cups of coffee and more pastries than I wanted to admit to eating, I leaned back and sighed. I then told Linda Kay and Jacob about the horror of finding a dead body. They were shocked and naturally curious. When we’d exhausted the topic, Jacob left to get back to work.
I started to rise but sat at Linda Kay’s request.
I experienced a moment of panic that the pastries weren’t sufficient to make up for missing work yesterday.
However, Li
nda Kay’s smile put my fears at ease. “So I heard you met Freemont Hopewell today.” She looked stern, but a twitch at the corners of her mouth told me she was joking.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who he was. He just came up behind me and offered to help, and I was juggling the pastries and my purse and my card key and—”
Linda Kay held up a hand to stem my flood of words. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”
“But he doesn’t work here anymore, and I shouldn’t have let him in the building, even if he was helping—”
“It’s okay. Freemont is a Hopewell. He doesn’t work here anymore, but he isn’t banned from the building.” She chuckled. “I was just curious what you thought about him.” She grinned. “If that color in your cheeks is any indication, I’d say he made quite the impression.”
I stared at her for a few seconds and then burst out laughing.
“Now why don’t you sit back and tell me all about it.”
“Well, I think he’s very handsome and charming.”
She waited.
“I only spent a few minutes with him, so I didn’t get to form an opinion about him, other than the fact he’s very good-looking.”
She smiled. “Yes, he is.”
I glanced at my cup and tried to form a question. “Is he...married?”
“No. He’s single.”
I took a sip of my coffee to hide the smile I wasn’t able to stop from forming.
“Freemont is one of the most eligible bachelors in Chattanooga. He’s been photographed with various widows and divorcees, but no one has managed to wrangle him.”
“Why not?” I hurriedly continued, “Not that I’m looking for a husband or anything.”
Linda Kay shrugged. “No idea. My husband thinks he hasn’t found anyone wealthy enough to keep him in the lifestyle he thinks he deserves.” She shrugged again.
“So it sounds like you don’t like him.”
“Actually, I do like him. It’s hard not to. Like you said, he’s very charming. He’s good-looking and always a perfect gentleman...”