“You’re leaving already?” he said after I’d congratulated him and thanked him for a lovely time. “The night is still young.”
“Not for people who have children in preschool. Plus, I have to work in the morning.” I leaned in and gave him a hug. “Everything was beautiful, Terry. You did a wonderful job. And you and Crawford make the best couple ever.”
He arched one brow. “Better than you and McDreamy?”
“Okay.” I grinned. “Second best.”
Sam had taken the boys and gone to get the car, so I had another minute or two to spare. “Thank you for fixing things between me and Crawford,” I said.
“You know it was the least I could do.”
“Still,” I told him, “I’m grateful.”
Terry nodded. “That’s the theme of the night. Gratitude. Crawford and I never thought we’d get here. That we would ever be allowed to get here—but somehow we did. Now give me a smooch, doll. Then go find that family of yours. It’s been one heck of a day, hasn’t it?”
It had indeed.
Chapter 24
The next morning Aunt Peg called me at work. Again. Luckily I wasn’t tutoring a student at the time. Or maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe Aunt Peg has figured out a way to hack into the Howard Academy computer system and check my schedule.
Nevertheless, even Faith looked on with disapproval when I opened the desk drawer and pulled out my phone. “It’s Aunt Peg,” I told her.
Usually that fixes things. This time it didn’t help. Faith still walked back to her bed, where she lay down and tucked her muzzle neatly between her paws. Some days everybody’s a critic.
“You’re not supposed to call me while I’m at school,” I said into the phone.
“Oh pish,” Aunt Peg replied. “How is it my fault where you are when I want to talk to you?”
If there was a correct answer to that question I had no idea what it was. “Last night was a bust,” Aunt Peg continued flatly.
“What, the wedding? I thought it was beautiful.”
“Sure, that part was very nice. But what did we find out? Nothing except that Louise Bixby can’t hold her liquor. Hardly useful information. It’s been a whole week.”
As if I didn’t know that. I’d been counting the days too.
Victor Durbin had died the previous Tuesday at Westminster. And what had I managed to learn in the meantime? That everyone who knew the man didn’t like him. That was hardly news.
I figured Aunt Peg had called to berate me for not having answers yet. But it turned out she was mad at someone else instead. Yippee.
“I called that New York detective who came to see me last week,” she said. “I also reminded him that a week had passed. I asked if he and his cohorts had managed to solve the crime yet.”
“Cohorts?” I swallowed a laugh. “You actually called them cohorts?”
“I don’t know why not. That describes their relationship perfectly. More important than what I called them was his answer. Which was no.”
“I think we’d have heard something if it was yes,” I mentioned.
Aunt Peg didn’t dignify that comment with a reply. “I asked him what was taking so long. And do you know what he said?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
Waiting for her to answer, I shifted in my seat to angle my body away from the door. I could hear movement in the hallway outside. The pitter-patter of student feet. At least I hoped that’s what it was. I really didn’t want Mr. Hanover to catch me bending the rules again.
“He had the nerve to tell me that he and his men are very busy. That parts of Manhattan are high crime areas, especially for tourists. ‘People visit the city from places where life is slower and easier and they don’t know enough to put their guard up,’ he said.” Aunt Peg’s voice rose in outrage. “As if everyone who lives outside the five boroughs is a country bumpkin.”
“That’s just silly,” I said.
“Not only that, but he left me with the distinct impression that solving this murder wasn’t a high priority. As far as they’re concerned, Victor Durbin is just another out-of-town visitor who turned into a statistic. As you might imagine, when I finished talking to the detective, I was feeling quite motivated.”
Presumably Aunt Peg meant she was motivated to call me. Not to do the legwork herself.
“It’s time for us to get back to basics,” she told me.
“Which means what . . . exactly?”
“Who had the most to gain from Victor’s death?”
“That’s easy,” I said. “Clark Donnay. When Victor died, he inherited ownership of the Pooch Pub.”
“Then you’d better go talk to him again,” Aunt Peg decided. “See if you can shake loose something useful this time.”
Even though she couldn’t see me, I grinned anyway. “You want to show up the Manhattan PD.”
“No,” she replied. “I want to know who killed Victor Durbin.”
* * *
I learned a long time ago that when Aunt Peg tells you to do something, it’s easier just to do it. Even Sam agreed with me about that. He didn’t protest when I asked if he could pick Kev up at preschool because Faith and I had a stop to make on our way home.
“Will you be home in time for dinner?” he asked. Married to me, Sam has become adept at preparing for all contingencies.
“I hope so,” I told him. But who knew? Aunt Peg might call with another assignment. I figured I’d better leave my options open.
The last time I’d visited the Pooch Pub, I’d left Faith behind. This time, I hadn’t had a choice. But when we arrived, I had bad news for her.
“You have to wait in the car,” I told her. “This is not the kind of place for you.”
Faith didn’t believe me. Actually, she wasn’t even looking at me. Instead she was standing on the seat, staring into the Pooch Pub through its large front window. A plethora of puppies was gamboling around inside. I knew she wanted to be part of that. I was equally sure she wasn’t going to be.
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
Faith’s tailed whipped madly from side to side. Look! It’s dog friendly!
“Those puppies are only there because they’re for sale,” I said. “Plus, who knows what shots they may or may not have had?”
I can play with them anyway!
“No you can’t,” I said firmly.
There was a rawhide bone in the glove compartment. I kept it there for emergencies. This definitely qualified. I took it out and offered it to her.
Faith looked down at my extended hand. She knew what that meant. Her tail drooped. Not going with you?
“Not this time,” I said. “I won’t be gone long.”
Faith delicately took the bone from my fingers. With a resigned sigh, she lay down on the seat. It was a good temperature inside the car, but I cracked the windows anyway to keep the air fresh.
So. Aunt Peg’s plan had gotten me to the Pooch Pub. But in true Aunt Peg fashion, she hadn’t told me how I was supposed to inveigle a second meeting with Clark Donnay once I was here.
My previous conversation with the Pooch Pub’s owner hadn’t gone perfectly. Nor had it ended on a high note. Now I wondered how I was going to get him to talk to me again.
In the meantime, I walked up to the counter and ordered a mocha latte. Then I found a seat at a table by the window. The pub wasn’t as crowded as it had been the last time I was here. With only a few tables in use, there were half a dozen puppies wandering around the room looking for something to do. When I lowered my hand toward the floor and snapped my fingers, two puppies quickly came running over.
One was black and white, the other cream colored. Both were fluffy and bright eyed. I decided I was probably looking at a pair of Cockapoos. Possibly littermates. Probably less than three months old. As every puppy seller knew, these guys were at their most adorable stage. No doubt they’d be gone in a matter of days.
I reached down and lifted the cream girl into my lap. She immediately jum
ped up and tried to lick my chin. The boy puppy attacked the zipper on my jacket, which was hanging over the back of my chair. At least this pair was well socialized.
“Good afternoon, Melanie Travis.”
I’d been concentrating on the puppies and hoping that Faith wasn’t watching us through the window. So I hadn’t noticed Clark’s approach. Apparently I wasn’t going to have to seek him out after all. Nor did I have to offer him a seat. Before I even had a chance to speak, Clark pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down.
Well then. It looked as though we both had something to say.
Clark glanced at my latte. Then at the puppy in my lap. “I see you’re still sniffing around. Unless you’d like to try to convince me you stopped in today because you were thirsty?”
There didn’t seem to be much point in equivocating. “No, I came because I wanted to talk to you.”
Clark sat back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest. He ignored the black and white puppy who was trying to climb up his leg. “Talk.”
His appearance had taken me by surprise. I hadn’t yet had a chance to prepare what I was going to say. So I led with the first question that came to mind. “Larry Bowling’s lawsuit, are you worried about that?”
“No. Not in the slightest.”
I lifted up the cream puppy and placed her on the ground. “Why not?”
He peered at me intently through his black-framed glasses. “Let me turn that around. Why should I be?”
“Because the Pooch Pub is yours now. And litigation could interfere with its successful operation.”
“Frivolous litigation,” Clark replied. “My lawyer has already contacted Mr. Bowling and his merry band of litigants. Their lawsuit—such as it is—has no merit. Their quarrel was with Victor, not me.”
“Their quarrel had to do with ownership of the Pooch Pub,” I pointed out. “And while Victor may be gone, he was your partner when their agreements were made. That’s probably enough for them to be able to make life difficult for you.”
“Ahh,” Victor said softly. “Now I see.”
“See what?” I sputtered.
“You and your associates have joined forces with them, haven’t you?”
“No.” The answer was automatic. I still had no idea what he was talking about.
Clark straightened in his seat. “I think you’re lying to me, Melanie Travis.”
“I’m not—” I began. Then I thought about what he’d said. “Wait—what associates?”
“Your fellow Poodle club members. That’s what this is actually about, isn’t it? You’ve come to spy on me, too.”
Now I was way past sputtering. I was dumbfounded. And utterly silent.
That was such a rare event in my life that Sam would have laughed to see it. Except that suddenly it felt as though nothing about this conversation was funny.
I swallowed and caught my breath. Then I put down my latte and said, “Maybe we’d better start over.”
“That depends.” Clark braced his hands on the edge of the table. He looked as though he was about to rise.
“On what?”
“On what you’re doing here.” He glared at me across the tabletop. “This time I want the truth.”
“I’m trying to figure out who killed Victor Durbin.” I opened my mouth and blurted out the answer. After the fact, even I was a little surprised by what I’d said.
I expected Clark to be offended. Perhaps to bluster about his innocence. He did neither. Instead, to my surprise, he appeared to relax. “Go on,” he said.
I shrugged. “That’s it.”
“You’re not trying to shut down the Pooch Pub?”
“No. Why would I want to do that?”
“Your friends seem to believe I’m doing something nefarious because I’m helping these puppies find good homes.”
I gave him a level look. Clark wasn’t the altruist he wanted me to believe he was. But maybe I didn’t have to get into that right now.
Instead, I finally connected the dots and said, “Mattie Gainer.”
“Yes,” Clark replied. “Mattie Gainer. You were talking to her at the seminar in New York. Then I saw you two sitting together here, last week after we spoke in my office. At the time, I didn’t know who she was. Unfortunately for me, that state of blissful ignorance didn’t last.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Now you’re the one who’s talking about spying on people. You saw me?”
Clark gestured upward toward a small camera mounted near the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it before. Now I felt like it was pointing right at me.
“Security cameras, Melanie Travis. Most businesses have them. I see everything that happens in here.”
Why did Clark keep calling me by my full name? I had no idea. It was kind of making me nuts.
“Melanie,” I said. “My name is Melanie. Or if you prefer, Ms. Travis. Take your pick.”
“Your name is the least of my concerns.” His lips quirked. “Particularly since I don’t expect our association to continue for much longer. I saw you come in today, look around, and take a seat. I assume you know that I put a stop to Ms. Gainer’s laughably transparent snooping over the weekend. I will also assume that having been ejected from the Pooch Pub herself, Ms. Gainer sent you here in her stead.”
It took me a minute to process that. Then I stopped trying and just focused on the most important part. “You ejected Mattie from the Pooch Pub?”
It really wasn’t funny. I heard myself snicker anyway. Poor Mattie. She was no Mata Hari.
“That amuses you?” Clark asked.
“Well . . .” I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing again. “Yes.”
“I see.”
“Mattie means well,” I told him.
“I don’t care,” Clark replied. “She was bad for business.”
“You shouldn’t take it personally. Mattie was very angry at your partner, Victor.”
“Former partner,” he corrected me. “And that’s not surprising. Apparently many people were angry at Victor. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to let her succeed in shutting down the Pooch Pub. Nor you either, for that matter.”
“That isn’t my intent,” I said.
Clark tipped his head to one side and studied me. “Is it your intent to see me arrested for Victor’s murder?”
“Did you do it?” I asked.
“No, I did not.”
“You had a good motive,” I commented.
“I also have a good alibi,” Clark replied mildly. “The police have verified it. That was the first thing they asked me about.”
Damn. Suddenly I felt like an idiot. A smarter sleuth would have asked that question sooner.
“If Ms. Gainer had a problem with Victor, she should have taken it up with him while he was still around to defend himself,” Clark said. “Lord knows she wouldn’t have been the only woman to do so.”
I’d finished my latte and started to stand up. I thought I was ready to leave. Now I sank back down in my seat. “There were others?”
“Victor was never shy about chronicling his romantic exploits,” Clark told me with obvious distaste. “He thought of himself as a Casanova. What the women thought, I can only imagine. Well, except for one. She showed up here.”
“Here,” I repeated.
“Not in the pub. In Victor’s office. Uninvited. When he and I were trying to work. I didn’t care what he did on his own time, but Victor had no right to bring that kind of trouble to our place of business.”
“What kind of trouble?” I asked. I was beginning to feel like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. When she started screaming threats at Victor, he shut his office door. Whatever had gone on between them, he never should have let things reach that point.”
“When did this happen?”
“More than a month ago. Maybe around Christmas. Before the door slammed, I heard her say something about a holiday
party. I didn’t catch most of what she said. All I know is that she was very, very angry.”
Maybe angry enough to kill?
“The woman you saw with Victor. Do you know her name?”
“No, I’d never seen her before.” Clark shrugged. He didn’t care.
“Can you describe her?”
“She was tall. He stopped and considered. “Taller than you, and maybe a couple of years older. She had very short dark hair. And sharp features. I think she was another Poodle club lady.”
From the physical description I thought I knew whom he was talking about. But his last sentence clinched it. The woman who’d been screaming threats at Victor was Hannah Bly. It had to be.
Chapter 25
Kevin came down for breakfast the next morning dressed entirely in red. He had on a red turtleneck and red overalls, paired with matching red socks. Bud, who was with him, had a bright red ribbon tied to his collar.
“Those aren’t the clothes I laid out for you on your bed,” I told him mildly.
Of course, we were running late. I had four bowls lined up on the kitchen table. I was busy pouring Cheerios into all of them. When I finished doing that I planned to plop a carton of milk on the table and tell my family that breakfast was served.
“Nope,” Kev replied. He reached into the basket in the middle of the table and snagged a banana. “Bud didn’t like the clothes you picked.”
In this house, we all talk to our dogs.
“Oh? What was wrong with them?”
“They weren’t red.”
Davey came skidding around the corner into the kitchen. He tossed his heavy backpack on the floor. It slid for several feet, ending up next to the dogs’ water bowl. Faith and Eve just watched the commotion, but Tar jumped up to investigate. I hoped he wouldn’t tip the bowl over onto the backpack. With Tar, you never knew.
“Hey squirt, nice outfit,” Davey told his brother. “You look like a tomato.”
“Yay!” Kevin said. Sarcasm went right over his head. Plus, he liked tomatoes.
“Today’s a red day,” Kev announced solemnly. He eyed my outfit from top to bottom. I was wearing gray corduroy slacks and a Fair Isle sweater. “You should change.”
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