Double Dog Dare

by E J Cochrane

  She thought she might be unnecessarily peevish. Her edict had more likely sprung from tenderness than tyranny, but Maddie couldn’t seem to shake the ominous feeling in her gut. She’d been down this road before, and at the time she’d been so young and desperate to please the only woman who’d ever returned her affections, she’d willingly given in to all of her girlfriend’s demands. With no frame of reference, she had assumed that was what love was. It had taken far too many months (and a stern talking to from Granny) to open her eyes to the truth of her relationship. She had vowed never to be controlled again, and warranted or not, she saw Nadia’s sharp decree (not to mention her earlier flash of possessiveness) as warning signs.

  The more she considered it, the angrier she became, and though her rage provided excellent fuel for her run as evidenced by the speed with which she reached her four-mile turnaround, she knew she would have to stop running eventually. Among other things, she had a full schedule even without a possible double homicide to solve.

  She was still irritated when she returned home to find a yawning Nadia moving about her kitchen. She wore the same shirt she’d borrowed the night before (a shirt that did little to restrain her full breasts), and anger be damned, she took in the alluring view of Nadia’s long bare legs when she crossed the room on her way to the coffeemaker to pour two cups of coffee. She was in dire need of caffeine, but Nadia’s thoughtfulness didn’t mitigate her aggravation any more than her effortlessly sexy appearance did. And the intimate smile that spread across her face didn’t make Maddie want to relinquish her anger and head for the bedroom. Not at all.

  “I can’t believe you went for a run.”

  “Should I have asked for permission first?”

  Nadia, who had been moving toward Maddie, now took a step back. “You’re upset.”

  “What gave it away?” She grabbed a banana and halfway through peeling it wished she’d picked a less comedic fruit.

  “Is this about last night?”

  She said nothing but glared at her over her breakfast, wondering if her likely resemblance to a chimpanzee diminished the impact of her anger.

  “Baby, I just wanted to keep you safe. Remember the whole reason I said I’d help you?”

  She remembered. She wished she had earlier, before she spent a morning feeding her distemper. Still, she wasn’t ready to completely dismiss her feelings.

  “Is it so terrible to have someone looking out for you?”

  “No,” Maddie admitted testily, her defenses still up.

  “Then why are you so upset with me?”

  “You were so…lord and mastery about it. I’m not your child or your possession, Nadia.”

  “I know that, but I’m not going to stay quiet when I think you might be in danger. I care about you, Maddie, and I know I’m repeating myself here, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Her expression radiated concern. Her furrowed brow and stormy eyes looked so different from her habitual easygoing air, and her lips were drawn in a thin, straight line. Maddie knew she had a point. The only thing Nadia had done was voice her concern more abruptly than Maddie cared for. But wasn’t that mostly a good thing? That was, after all, what a girlfriend should do, wasn’t it? She couldn’t very well stay angry at Nadia for caring about her.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to be—what did you say? Lord and mastery?” Maddie cringed at her word choice and nodded. “Does this mean you’ll meet Ray at my office?” Nadia moved closer, her expression pleading, and Maddie again nodded her agreement. “Thank you. And how nice is it that I’ll get to see you in the middle of the day? Just try not to look too gorgeous.”

  “You say that like it’s a challenge.”

  She pulled Maddie in for a lingering kiss, one that Maddie hated to end.

  “For you, it’s probably impossible.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maddie’s day proved no easier after she headed to work. Two of her walkers called in sick, leaving her and Patrick scrambling to tend to all of their animals without compromising their high standards of pet care. Of course three of Maddie’s charges chose that day to test the limits of her patience. Sophie, a basset-chihuahua mix, got two blocks from home, sat down and refused to move for nearly ten minutes. Maddie ended up carrying her to her preferred patch of grass just to make sure she got some relief on their outing, but that was still better than Janice, the wiry-haired mutt who not only ate poop on a regular basis but that day decided to roll around in it, necessitating a bath Maddie had no time to administer but couldn’t neglect.

  Then there were Murphy’s cats, who continued to defy her description of them at every turn. The moment Maddie opened the door, allegedly lazy and aloof Stanley darted into the hallway. When she retrieved him, his brother launched into the hall in his place, sparking a five-minute game of Chase the Cat, featuring the alternating antics of both of Murphy’s suddenly high-energy felines. By the time she got them both in the apartment with the door safely shut behind them, she wanted to call in sick on her life. But even though they signaled the end of the pet care portion of her day, she still had to face a potential killer and, as it turned out, step into the emotional tsunami of her sister’s love life.

  “Have you heard from Harriet lately?” Patrick asked as they tended to their close-of-day routine. She suspected his tone was supposed to be nonchalant, as if she had no clue he had the hots for her sister. She didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes.

  “Not since Tuesday night. Why?”

  “I’m just thinking about Little Guys. I’m concerned about our space here. We outgrew it weeks ago, and we keep getting bigger, so we need to do something soon. If the firehouse doesn’t work out, we should go back out looking for a new place to call home. I mean, we owe it to our clients and ourselves to scour the city for the best space possible, don’t you think?”

  “How magnanimous of you.” Maddie didn’t even try to hide her sarcasm or the fact that she knew his interest lay elsewhere. “She put the offer in yesterday. I haven’t heard anything since then.”

  “What if it falls through? Shouldn’t we keep searching, just in case?”

  “I thought I’d take a cue from you and be optimistic about this one. I think it will work out fine.”

  “Oh. Good. That’s good.” Maddie couldn’t remember ever hearing anything that sounded farther from good than her typically unflappable assistant in that moment.

  “Was there something else?”

  “Wh-what else would I, uh, want to know?” She had never witnessed a nervous Patrick. It was adorably heartbreaking.

  “Maybe if she asked about you.”

  “Did she?” He looked like a kid on Christmas, enthusiastic and full of expectation.

  “Not as such.” She watched his eager expression fall flat. “She did tell me to give you her number.”

  “Really? Can I have it?”

  “No,” she said and watched his excitement dim once more.

  “Because she’s your sister and it might affect our working relationship?”

  “That’s a good reason, but no. It’s because I gave her your number instead.”

  “Is she going to call me? Wait, she’s had my number since Tuesday? Why hasn’t she already called me?”

  “Maybe because she’s busy trying to secure that new headquarters you’re so concerned about,” she said, but her comment was lost on him.

  He seemed to have shifted into an emotional tailspin, the likes of which she could have been proud of. She watched as he paced and muttered to himself, the furrow in his brow increasing with every step he took, and she wondered how she would pull her normally laid-back, stoic assistant back to steadier footing.

  Suddenly he spun around wide-eyed and asked, “Is this going to be a problem, boss?”

  “Your love life is your business as long as it doesn’t affect my business.”

  “Thanks, boss. You’re the best.”


  And in just the sort of blurring of personal and professional lines she feared, he hugged her before floating off on his own incredibly buoyant mood, leaving her to hope her sister would appreciate him as much as she did. However, she had no time to dwell on what she hoped would be Harriet’s least tumultuous entanglement to date because she still had to review her walkers’ notes for the day before locking up and hustling over to what she hoped would be her last interrogation.

  Twenty minutes later, she dashed into Nadia’s practice feeling doubly out of sorts. Not only was it odd to visit a vet’s office with no appointment, no pet and no professional need to see the doctor, but she had arrived only ten minutes before her scheduled meeting with Ray. Even more distressing—Dottie, whose habitual lax approach to timeliness should have delayed her arrival for at least ten more minutes, sat waiting for her, an unsmiling Carlisle at her side. While Maddie appreciated Carlisle’s unquestionable influence on Dottie’s unprecedented punctuality, she saw no other benefit to the phlegmatic assistant’s presence and planned to say as much.

  She stopped abruptly, causing a collision with Franklin, Nadia’s vet tech nephew, who shared his aunt’s compassion for animals as well as her taste in women. He had eagerly volunteered to act as her escort for the thirty-foot walk to the tiny exam room where she hoped to get a break in this case, but he had spent the brief duration of their walk cracking his knuckles, clearing his throat and scratching nervously at his ill-shaven chin. Now he hovered at her shoulder, apparently unable to end their magical time together.

  “Can we talk?” She glared at Dottie, hoping to convey the need for a Carlisle-free zone.

  “What do you need, Miss Smithwick? I’ll get you anything.” Franklin looked so hopeful and pleased to be of service that she let his mispronunciation of her name slide.

  “Thank you, Franklin. That’s sweet of you, but I actually need to speak to my friend for a moment. Privately.” She laid her hand on his forearm and watched his eyes widen. “But I’ll call you if I need anything.” She couldn’t help herself. She winked at him. His entire head turned red, and he looked almost ready to swoon. She’d forgotten her inexplicable effect on Franklin but had to admit it was fun being the cause of such a reaction rather than the one always having it.

  “I do believe that boy is smitten with you.” Dottie stood at her elbow watching the flushed and enchanted vet tech back down the hallway.

  “Runs in the family, I guess,” she muttered. Once they were alone with a door between them and the ubiquitous Carlisle, she hissed, “What is she doing here?”

  “She’s my assistant. She’s assisting me,” Dottie huffed as if it was the most logical thing in the world for her to have an assistant and for that assistant to be present for almost every aspect of her life. “I didn’t realize it was invitation only. Or can we only expand our investigative circle to include your girlfriend?”

  Maddie sighed in frustration. It wasn’t like she had sought Nadia’s help, and she wouldn’t even have it now if not for Dottie bringing their mild vigilantism to Nadia’s attention, a point Dottie was sure to ignore.

  “Fine. She can stay. How will Carlisle be assisting us today?”

  “She’s a whiz with shorthand, so her notetaking skills will be invaluable.”

  “I appreciate your total lack of confidence in my ability to remember the important parts of one conversation.”

  “She’s also my understudy, should Ray prove impervious to my considerable charms.”

  “Carlisle?” She peered through the cutout window at what Dottie deemed a more viable alternate than herself. Carlisle wore a long skirt and her habitual sweater set, this one in a blue so dark it looked black. In deference to the gloomy forecast, she balanced an umbrella on her lap as she pored over the contents of her ever-present clipboard, reading over the tops of her glasses rather than removing them. “You expect her to have a better chance of bewitching Ray than I would?”

  “Remember the bartender, starfish? Carlisle has a proven track record with males whereas you have hardly any track record to speak of.”

  “What about Franklin? He likes me.”

  “And you make a darling couple, but beyond one atypically starstruck young man, what kind of attention do you generally garner from the unfair sex?” She thrust out her jaw but said nothing. “If not for your lackluster approach to fashion and your aversion to worthwhile grooming, you’d be invaluable in this endeavor. You’re certainly attractive enough to capture a man’s attention, but you scarcely have the aptitude for flirtation when the other party interests you. What hope do you have when seductive subterfuge is called for?”

  “I can flirt,” she huffed.

  “Firecakes, can you honestly say you have a chance of beguiling this man? You don’t like sports enough to create a connection with our mark, and assuming he’s more or less as average as the average male, you’ll need that or boobs to make an impression.”

  “So Carlisle is your plan B? She looks like a middle-aged Mary Poppins.”

  “As opposed to your homage to GI Jane?” Dottie scowled at her drab olive cargo pants and sweater.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” she sighed and trudged back into the room to wait for Ray. “We’re doomed if you need either of us.”

  The tiny room felt cramped before Ray Warner bustled in—right on time Maddie noted with satisfaction. Though she knew punctuality didn’t preclude murderous tendencies, she still appreciated his promptness. His appearance, however, was somewhat unexpected. While she had expected some disparity between Leigh and the man she cuckolded, he couldn’t have been more her opposite than Maddie’s casual attire was to Dottie’s designer wardrobe.

  He stood an inch or two shorter than the unquestionably short Maddie. With the extra weight he carried, he looked like a ruddy, blond Oompa-Loompa, a stark contrast to tall, slender and usually tan Leigh. Their personalities appeared to be diametrically opposed as well, and Maddie found herself puzzling over the likelihood that Lindsey could be attracted to both laid-back, quietly attentive Leigh and Ray, who acted like a puppy eager for treats.

  “You’re looking to repaint the whole place?” he asked, one leg bouncing rapidly as he scanned his surroundings.

  Maddie could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes as he contemplated the fee for painting four exam rooms and a spacious lobby, not to mention the expansive behind-the-scenes area. She felt a twinge of guilt at abusing the aspirations of a fellow small business owner. Then again, if he was guilty of murder, he deserved much more than dashed fiscal hopes as punishment.

  “Not exactly, Raymond.” Dottie crossed her legs, drawing his eyes to her shapely calves. “I’m in the throes of a remodel, and I’m interviewing artistes.”

  “For your home?”

  Dottie’s cover story was new to Maddie. They’d agreed to tell him exactly what he assumed was the reason he’d been called to a veterinary clinic—that the clinic needed to be painted. She managed not to let her bewilderment show, but he seemed understandably thrown by this twist.

  “I don’t think I can give you a fair estimate without seeing the space.”

  “I’ve never found estimates particularly interesting.” Dottie brushed his concern aside. “I’m more partial to personal connections. I can’t work with someone I’m not drawn to.” She grinned and placed a hand on her chest, highlighting her cleavage (to great effect, Maddie noted).

  “You just want to get to know me?” Dottie nodded and batted her eyelashes. Ray blushed deeply and then looked at Maddie like she was the dreary chaperone on an otherwise hot date. “What are you here for?”

  “She’s my interior designer. Such a flair for colors and textures.” Maddie wondered how much it pained Dottie to spin that tale. “The evidence of her wardrobe notwithstanding.”

  “And you?” He lifted his eyebrows questioningly at Carlisle.

  “She’s my assistant, my right-hand, my Girl Friday. I can’t very well conduct such an important interview witho
ut my team, can I?”

  “I guess not.” He looked doubtful. “But why are we meeting at a vet’s office?”

  Maddie could tell he was trying not to offend his eccentric potential client, but considering the perplexing situation, it was a fair question.

  “I just adore animals, Raymond. I find their presence so comforting, so soothing,” she said as a dog in the next room filled the air with pitiful cries that slid into a plaintive yowl. “Don’t you?”

  He looked about as soothed as if he’d consumed a gallon of espresso in under ten minutes, but he wisely agreed. “Do you have pets?” he asked, and Maddie wondered if his palpable nerves sprang from the bizarre nature of their interaction or the fear of having to work around the equally strange menagerie he must have feared encountering in Dottie’s home.

  “My borzoi Anastasia is my world.”

  “Borzoi? Is that a dog?”

  “Russian wolfhound,” Carlisle explained succinctly. She barely glanced at Ray, focused as she was on her superfluous note taking. “Show worthy.”

  “And you, Raymond?” Dottie asked. “Any animal companions at the Warner abode?”

  “No. My daughter is allergic.” He looked appropriately repentant for his failing. If nothing else, he was a quick study in Dottie.

  “A daughter. Does that mean there’s a Mrs. Ray?”

  “There used to be. She died.”

  Maddie found it odd that he offered Lindsey’s death rather than their divorce as the explanation for her absence. Did he think it was more respectable, more sympathetic perhaps to be a widower rather than a divorcé? Or did he still harbor feelings for her that made her death easier to acknowledge than the end of their marriage? If that was the case, were those feelings intense enough to inspire murder? Or were they grounds for believing in his innocence? Hopefully Dottie would bring them around to some answers without tipping him off to the true nature of their discussion.

  “That must be difficult for you.”

  “Well, we’ve been divorced for a while, but yeah, it’s rough.”

  “So you still cared for her?” Maddie asked, hoping to get them on track before Nadia’s office closed for the day.