The Dog Who Knew Too Much

by Krista Davis

  There was one other odd connection, though. Glenda Hoover worked for Pierce Real Estate, and her dog, Dolly, was the first to be kidnapped. Did someone at the real estate company have a bone to pick with Glenda? Why did Stan Hoover keep coming to mind? Because he had a record of theft? Would he steal his own mother’s dog? I felt a little bit guilty for jumping to Stan as a suspect. Just because he had been convicted of a crime once didn’t mean he was continuing down that path.

  And why leave the dogs here? If I were stealing dogs, I would have gotten them out of town right away. Of course, Dave had been kind enough to point out what a lousy criminal I would make. Had the dogs been hidden here with the intention of sneaking them out of town in a month or two when the hubbub had died down and people weren’t looking for them anymore? That was dangerous. What if someone rented the cabin?

  I let the dogs out and watched to see if their noses led them in a particular direction. Birds chirped in the trees, but there weren’t any other sounds. If Pippin was barking somewhere, I couldn’t hear him.

  The three dogs sniffed in different directions.

  I sighed. What was I overlooking? I returned to the kitchen and poked around. The air fryer was so new that the instructions were still inside it. I opened kitchen cabinets. They were largely unimpressive. Just like an ordinary kitchen, there were dishes, plain glasses, and mugs decorated with cats and dogs. But way in the back, something glistened. I pulled a chair over and stepped on the seat to see it better.

  After moving everything aside gingerly, I withdrew a heavy crystal decanter. I’d heard of these but hadn’t seen one. Roughly eight inches high and six inches across, the decanter was carved so the base looked something like a dog’s paw. The crystal stopper was the shape of a hound’s head, probably a beagle. I turned it over to see the hallmark—Waterford. I didn’t know exactly what they cost, but I knew they weren’t the sort of thing usually found in a rental house.

  Stan. Could he be using this house to stash things he found in packages he stole? I replaced the decanter carefully and snooped some more. A brand-new, ultramodern heating and cooling fan with no blades was stashed in a closet. I had seen one in a store and knew it was pricey. It was impossible to know what belonged to the owners and what might have been hidden there by Stan.

  In any event, I had dawdled long enough. I needed to get back to the hunt for Pippin. I stepped outside and locked the door. When I turned around, Gingersnap and Stella were growling. Wade stood not fifteen feet away from me.

  Thirty-four

  I stopped breathing. I’d thought he was gone! A bedraggled dog with a kennel leash looped tightly around his neck stood next to Wade. Its black and yellow fur appeared wet and matted. It looked like it had mange. A rope harness kept the dog’s mouth shut so it couldn’t bark.

  But it whined.

  Gingersnap and Stella showed their teeth, and their hackles were up. They were positioned in front of Trixie as though they were protecting her from Wade. Trixie seemed scared and immobile.

  “We meet again, Holly Miller,” he said.

  Thoughts swirled through my head fast. Was he the dognapper after all? Had he been using this cabin? I tried to stay calm and pretend to be civil. “Hello, Wade.”

  “You know my name. I’m flattered.”

  My heart beat like crazy. I was still close to the door. Could I unlock it and get everyone inside before he attacked me? I didn’t know that he even wanted to attack me. I assumed he still wanted Trixie.

  He called her name. “Here, Dummy. C’mon.”

  Trixie pinned her ears back and lowered herself to the ground. Slowly and grudgingly, she moved forward.

  There was an old saying, Emotions run up and down the leash, meaning a dog could feel what his person was feeling. Right now, I was panicked. I stepped forward and crouched fast to pick up Trixie when something flew over my head, barely missing me. It was so close I felt the air moving my hair.

  I jerked upright with Trixie in my arms. In front of me, Wade fell to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream of pain. An arrow jutted from his thigh.

  “LaRue?” I yelled. “LaRue? Is that you?”

  I heard someone running through the woods. There was no time for anything but getting out of there.

  Gingersnap leaped forward and grabbed the leash of Wade’s dog. As I ran for the golf cart with Trixie in my arms, Stella, Gingersnap, and the other dog raced toward it.

  I jammed the key in the ignition, turned it on, and drove down the road as fast as I could, leaving Wade alone and injured. For all I knew, the archer in the woods might have another arrow. I wasn’t going to stick around.

  When we reached Wagtail, I breathed with relief. I didn’t stop until I pulled up at the reception entrance of the inn. I didn’t even bother to park the golf cart properly. Trixie was the first to jump off and open the automatic sliding doors. The other dogs and I followed.

  It was ridiculous of me, but I ran behind the reception desk and hit the button to lock the doors. Had Wade been on foot? Maybe he had stolen a golf cart and left it hidden up on the mountain somewhere. I wasn’t taking any chances. With that arrow in his leg, I didn’t think he would be moving very fast, but he might be the kind of guy who muscled through the pain.

  No one was in the office. There was no sign of Zelda. I picked up the phone and called Dave. While it was ringing, I grabbed some dog treats and handed them out. “You guys were so brave. You saved Trixie!” I gently removed the rope halter and leash from the mangy dog. As I looked at his face more carefully, I recognized his eyes. “That idiot dyed your fur!” I shouted. Pippin smiled and crunched his treat.

  When Dave answered his phone, I told him what had happened. “Wade is probably out there somewhere with that arrow in his leg.”

  “You didn’t see who shot it?”

  “No. I can only imagine that it was LaRue. You know how he appears and then is gone in an instant. I did hear the sound of leaves crunching as someone ran through the woods.”

  “And you have Pippin?”

  “Yes. And, Dave, there’s one other thing. I’ll tell you about it after you deal with Wade.”

  I hung up. I was still shaking. I needed a cup of strong tea. “What’s the doggy equivalent of tea?” I asked.

  If Zelda had been there, she could have interpreted their response, but I had a strong feeling it might be a good hard cookie to chew on.

  I walked toward the main lobby. Pippin raced toward Jim and jumped up in his arms.

  Stella watched sadly. She seemed resigned to being alone. I hugged her and told her again what a great dog she had been to defend Trixie.

  Her tail wagged, but I knew it wasn’t the same as if Diane had been there for her.

  The lobby appeared to have become the heart of the search for Pippin. Oma, Zelda, and Pippin’s entourage cheered. Everyone wanted to pet him.

  “What is this stuff on your fur?” asked Jim. “What did they do to you? You’re a mess!” In spite of his complaints, he hugged Pippin fiercely.

  The dining area had long since closed. I hurried into the private kitchen for dog cookies and a mug of tea for me.

  When I returned to the lobby and sat down, all four dogs came to me for a cookie. While they contently ate their treats, the humans in the room demanded explanations.

  I didn’t tell them my theory about Stan, but I gave them the whole story about how the dogs protected Trixie from Wade.

  “Why would he ruin Pippin’s fur?” asked Jim. “Gosh, I hope this stuff comes off.”

  “I guess he thought no one would recognize Pippin with dark, mangy fur,” I suggested. “How else would Wade be able to get Pippin out of town?”

  Oma placed her hand on my arm. “Thank goodness someone shot this Wade and defended you.”

  I gave her a sideways look. “I wouldn’t go thanking anybody just yet. That arrow passed ver
y close to my head. I’m not sure it was meant for Wade. If I hadn’t bent to pick up Trixie at that precise moment, I might have been hit.”

  Oma’s hands flew to her red cheeks. “Are you saying you were the target?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it could have been an inept archer. I thought maybe it was LaRue.”

  “You better stick around the inn,” said Zelda. “But who would want to shoot you?”

  “You mean other than Idella and Sugar?” I asked.

  “Ach, you joke,” Oma grumbled. “They might make a big fuss, but they would not harm you.”

  “To be honest, I’m perfectly happy to hang around here until we figure out what happened.” I tried to seem nonchalant, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized the arrow had been meant for me.

  I relaxed when Pippin became the center of attention.

  “He’s damp,” said Jim. “Maybe this stuff will wash out.”

  Oma examined Pippin’s fur. “We have several excellent groomers in Wagtail. Perhaps one of them could strip this black dye.”

  Camille began to laugh. “They’re going to have to rewrite the script for the first show. I have a feeling Pippin will be getting into paint in the first episode.”

  “Not funny, Camille.” Jim sighed. “Liesel, can you hook me up with one of these expert groomers?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” She motioned to Jim to follow her.

  I could see that Rae Rae and Marlee felt obligated to stay with me. “You guys go on and have fun. I’ll be fine. In fact,” I lied, “I believe I might take a nap. I’m a little worn-out.” I stood up and disappeared into the private kitchen. Trixie, Gingersnap, and Stella accompanied me. I settled in an armchair in front of the fireplace and put my feet up. Twinkletoes appeared out of nowhere to purr on my lap.

  It wasn’t long before the hubbub in the main lobby died down. I wondered if Dave had found Wade yet. He would have to take him to Dr. Engelknecht or to the hospital in Snowball. That wound had looked awful to me.

  At least Dave could charge him with stealing Pippin. It probably wouldn’t keep Wade off the streets for long, but it was a start.

  I closed my eyes and heard someone at the kitchen door that led outside to Oma’s herb garden. Trixie, Gingersnap, and Stella raised their heads and perked their ears.

  When someone knocked on the door, all three of them barked. I turned around, afraid it might be Wade or some deranged archer.

  But the dogs had run to the door and were wagging their tails.

  Clutching my phone in case I needed to call for help, I edged closer.

  In the fading light of day, I made out Holmes through the window in the door. Feeling foolish, I flung it open.

  “Hi! Could you use some company?” His grin chased all my fears away.

  “Did Oma call you?” I locked the door while he petted the dogs.

  “You bet. Her favorite granddaughter was nearly murdered up on the mountain.”

  I flopped into my chair. “That may not even be an exaggeration.”

  Holmes sat down on the fireplace hearth facing me. “She said something about an arrow.”

  I told him about Wade and the arrow nearly hitting me. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I may be too close to uncovering something. But I’m not sure what.”

  Holmes rose and walked behind me. I could hear him running water in the kettle. “Have you eaten dinner?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s see what’s in the magic refrigerator. Ohh, nice! Chicken salad. Mac and cheese! Looks like doggy meat loaf for Trixie and lake trout for Twinkletoes.”

  The next thing I knew, he placed a tray of goodies on a table between the two armchairs. He brought over two mugs of steaming tea, two forks, two knives, and two napkins. No plates. We ate right out of the containers. He’d even taken a minute to heat the mac and cheese in the microwave. It was positively sinful.

  “Okay, so let’s look at the facts.”

  I cracked up laughing. He was so predictable. But he was right. “It all began when Glenda’s dog, Dolly, was stolen. Clara’s dog, Tavish, was reported missing the next day. By Saturday morning, Diane was missing. We know the dogs were being kept at the rental cabin on the mountain. And Glenda works for the real estate company that handles that cabin. Diane had been driven up the mountain where her killer dumped her body in a ravine.”

  “You left out Wade. He claimed Trixie belonged to him. Right?” asked Holmes.

  “Correct. Holmes, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Dave has confirmed that a few years ago Stan and Sugar were convicted of being porch pirates.”

  “Sugar McLaughlin?”

  “I’m afraid so. Their families have tried very hard to keep it a secret.”

  “Wow. Sugar’s a pest, but I never imagined she would do anything like that. They’re so young. Why would they be so stupid?”

  “I’m afraid the lid is going to blow. I found a few things in the cabin where the dogs were held that seemed out of place. There’s an expensive crystal decanter, an air fryer, and a pricey vacuum.”

  “You think the two of them are at it again and hiding their treasures in the cabin?”

  “I think Stan is. I have no reason to think that Sugar is involved this time. But if I’m right and he’s stashing things in the cabin, it leads me to believe that Stan might also be the dognapper.”

  Holmes scooped up a bite of chicken salad. “I’m trying to think of a reasonable alternative explanation, but the only one I can imagine is that the owners of the cabin placed those items there.”

  I told him about the shipping label I found on the Hoovers’ trash.

  “Have you told Dave?” I could hear the doubt in his tone.

  Eyeing the mac and cheese, I said, “He’s busy looking for a guy with an arrow in his leg.”

  “That would take priority. At least Stan didn’t murder anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I ate a giant mouthful of mac and cheese. “Mmm. I love it when it’s creamy like this. I’m very much afraid that Diane might have caught Stan stealing a package from her front door.”

  “Aww, come on. He wouldn’t kill her because of that. And I thought you said the fentanyl is believed to have been on a brownie.”

  “What? Stan can’t buy a brownie? Maybe he brought her one from a bakery and tampered with it or poured the stuff into a drink.”

  “But to murder someone over a package?” Holmes shook his head. “That’s hard to believe.”

  “What if he murdered her so he wouldn’t end up back in prison?”

  “Seems like a stretch, Holly. Maybe the owners of the cabin just have nice stuff. And maybe the label on Diane’s package blew over to the Hoovers’ house. If Diane lived across town from Stan that might be different. Besides, I heard the case was solved and that Howard killed Diane. What happened to that?”

  I swallowed another forkful of the heavenly mac and cheese. “I think it’s wrong. It’s all so nicely probable, but it’s also terribly unlikely.”

  “What about that guy Jim?” Holmes asked.

  “He and Rae Rae had motives and opportunity to kill Howard. They were both out and about in the wee hours. I don’t know of any reason Jim would want to murder Diane, though. It could be that Stan murdered Diane and Jim killed Howard. Apparently, Jim was hounding Howard. And someone saw him leave the inn late the night Howard died.”

  Holmes held a piece of chocolate cake in front of me. “The facts just don’t add up, Holly. This might make you feel better.”

  “What about the fact that someone just shot an arrow at me?”

  Thirty-five

  “Do you think that was related to the murders?” Holmes handed me a dessert fork for the cake.

  “I’ve been pondering it. The way I see it, there are three possibilities. The first would b
e the best scenario—someone was aiming for Wade and I happened to get in the way. But I’m not hopeful that was the case, because the archer ran away. If he had meant to injure Wade and help me, why wouldn’t he have stuck around to help me?”

  Holmes licked chocolate icing off his finger. “Good point. Could have been a clumsy hunter, but it’s not hunting season.”

  “Or, I know something that someone doesn’t want me to blab.”

  Holmes looked over at me. “That’s pretty serious. You think the archer meant to kill you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to think that’s the case, because it scares me. The third possibility is that someone wants me to stay away from that cabin.”

  “Ahh, he meant to frighten you, but his near miss was too close. That makes more sense. But what’s in the house that he wouldn’t want you to see? Seems pretty dire to protect crystal and a vacuum.”

  I gave Holmes a look just as Dave swung the door open. “Liesel said I’d find you here. Hi, Holmes. Glad to see you back in town.”

  “Want some dinner?” Holmes held out the mac and cheese for Dave to see.

  “Sounds great. I’ve been chasing Wade with no time to eat.” He pulled up a chair.

  “Uh, Dave? We’ve been eating out of the containers.” It was only fair to warn him.

  He plunged a fork into the mac and cheese. “I’ll consider you poison testers. You both seem to be alive and well.”

  “So far,” Holmes quipped, handing him a mug of tea. “Have you got Wade in custody?”

  “Not yet. I have to give it to him—he’s a hardy guy. I figured I’d drive up there and call an ambulance to come get him. But he was gone. I found blood on the grass. He left a trail of it to the house and broke in. Near as I can tell from the lack of blood leaving the house, he must have bound it somehow with a towel or a sheet that he tore up. He left the medicine cabinet open. I assume he stole some aspirin.”

  He paused to finish the container of mac and cheese. “I’m starved. I may get calls while I’m here. Headquarters sent a couple of Snowball officers over to track him. It’s getting dark, though. I don’t know if they’ll be able to do much at night unless he happens to approach the wrong cabin and someone reports him. I’ve put out an announcement to be on the lookout for him.”