“What are we doing here?” Pepe asked, waking up. He had been asleep ever since we got off the ferry.
“I’ve got a counseling appointment,” I said.
“You know I am a therapy dog,” said Pepe, jumping out of the car when I opened the door.
“So you say,” I replied, heading across the parking lot.
“I will listen to your troubles and comfort you,” Pepe said, trotting to keep up with me.
“That’s true,” I said, giving him a sideways look. “You always make me feel better when you listen to me.” The problem is he almost never listens to me. He’s the opposite of Suzanna, who is a good listener.
Suzanna’s office is on the second floor. There’s a small waiting room with a bottled water dispenser and copies of lifestyle magazines. But I didn’t have to wait. The door to the room was open, and Suzanna was sitting at the desk, making notes, probably about her last client. The décor is designed to soothe: dark gray walls, dim lighting, a lit candle perfuming the air with a vanilla scent.
Suzanna waved me to a seat on the corduroy sofa, while she took a seat in the armchair near the bookshelf. Suzanna has been my counselor since my divorce. And although she doesn’t believe my dog talks, I still count on her to let me know if I am going too far off the deep end.
“So, Geri, tell me what’s going on?” she asked, looking at me with her piercing dark eyes. Her bright red hair glowed like a flame. She was wearing amethyst earrings and a light-gray tunic over velvety leggings.
I told her everything, although Pepe kept interrupting me and embellishing the story as we went along. I told her about finding the body of Bickerstaff, about meeting the vet (I left out my attraction to him, though Pepe insisted I should explain I was in heat), about our visit to Carpenter Manor, about Pepe scaring off the intruder (Pepe wanted me to emphasize his heroic actions), and about finding Boswell’s body in his study. I left out the part about our breaking and entering, but I did tell her about Pepe being frightened by the cat, just to tease him a little since he was being so bossy. He looked disgusted and crawled under the forest-green afghan to take a nap. He loves burrowing under blankets.
“Geri, that sounds like a lot,” Suzanna said.
“I know,” I said. I realized I was shaking. “I didn’t expect it to be so dangerous.”
“Are you reconsidering taking this job?” Suzanna asked. She had never said anything outright, but I got the idea she thought being a private detective was not good for me.
“Yes,” I said.
Pepe poked his head out from under the blanket.
“No way, Jose,” he said.
“I just don’t think I can put myself, or my dog, in danger anymore. I mean, what’s the point? We hardly make any money.”
“And what about your boss?” Suzanna asked.
“He’s no help,” said Pepe.
I had to agree. “He’s no help,” I said. “While we’re running around and doing all the work, he’s at the racetrack.”
Suzanna shook her head. “What do you plan to do?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I could quit.” I felt a huge relief as I said that. I could go home, make dinner, have a glass of wine, and retire early with Felix. The police would investigate the murders. That was their job. No need for us to get involved. We had already provided them with everything we knew.
“What about the dogs?” asked Pepe. “They need us.”
“But if the trustee is dead—”
“Then we must find out who is the new trustee,” insisted Pepe. He leaped up and ran to the door.
“We don’t have a copy of the trust document,” I said.
Suzanna looked perturbed. “Are you talking to your dog?”
“Yes,” I said. “He wants us to continue to investigate.”
“So there is a part of you that believes you should keep on investigating.” Suzanna tends to think that Pepe represents my alter ego, an aspect of my character that is more daring, more confident than my usual personality.
“No, it’s Pepe who wants to keep on investigating,” I said. “I would be happy to give up.”
“That is not true, Geri!” said Pepe, looking at me with dismay. “You would not leave any dogs to suffer.”
“Why should they suffer?” I asked. “They’ve got plenty of money.”
“Money does not necessarily make people happy,” said Pepe.
That was true. I thought about how lonely Boswell seemed, even though he had a fancy house full of stuff. And Yolanda, who despite her millions lived in a plain little room and took orders from a bunch of spoiled dogs.
“Who?” That was Suzanna.
“The dogs,” I said. “They inherited a fortune. Several million dollars.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“You know, it does seem excessive,” I said. “Four dogs can’t possibly need millions of dollars to keep them happy. Dogs are happy . . .” I looked at Pepe.
“Oh no, you are not!” he said. “You are not going to say that just being around people makes dogs happy!”
“They’ve done experiments,” I told him. “Dogs evolved differently from wolves because they care for us. When given a choice between food and taking care of us, wolves choose food, but dogs choose people.”
“Most dogs,” said Pepe. “I myself prefer a nice juicy steak.”
“You know that’s not true,” I said.
“OK. A crisp piece of bacon,” he conceded.
Suzanna smiled. “Your dog does not agree with you,” she said.
I brightened up. “You can hear him?”
She shook her head impatiently. “Geri, you know he doesn’t talk. Maybe you are exceptionally good at intuiting what he wants, but he can’t talk. Dogs don’t talk.”
I stared at her. If I couldn’t convince my counselor, then who could I convince? And if I was crazy because I thought my dog talked, then maybe Mrs. Carpenter was crazy, too.
“I guess we do have to go back,” I said to Pepe.
“Yes, so I can woo the beautiful Phoebe,” said Pepe. “But first we must stop for bacon. Now that you have mentioned it, I must have some.”
“I didn’t mention it,” I said, then stopped. No point in arguing with a dog.
Suzanna looked worried. “I don’t like the idea of you going back into such a dangerous situation,” she said.
“It’s not dangerous for us,” I said. “No one is trying to poison us. Just the dogs.”
“And the lawyers,” pointed out Pepe.
“Can you call your boss and ask him to go with you?” Suzanna asked.
“That’s a good idea. I’ll try that,” I said.
“Geri, we do not need his help!” said Pepe.
I glanced at the clock. The session was almost over. “Well, thanks,” I said, getting up. “I feel a lot better.”
Suzanna got up, too. She took my hands in hers and fixed me with concern in her eyes. “Geri, I am worried about you. I would feel much better about this if you would keep in touch with me. Can you call me once a day and just leave a message on my answering machine? I’ll check it regularly. If something comes up and you need to talk, I’ll try to be available, but I’m going away for the weekend with my girlfriends, so it might take me a little while to get back to you.”
“Oh, really, where are you going?” I asked.
“To Sequim for the lavender festival,” she said. “One of my girlfriends has a vacation home in Discovery Bay, so we go every year. We love it. Good food, music, and lavender ice cream!” She closed her eyes and sighed. “It’s so peaceful.”
“Well, that’s where the dogs live,” I said. “Right next to a lavender farm. Maybe we’ll see you there.”
Suzanna laughed. “Geri, thousands of people attend the lavender festival. We’re not likely to run into each other. But do call if you need me.”
Chapter 21
Jimmy G was heading back to Seattle. Seemed the best choice by far. He could swing by Eme
rald Downs and catch the last race of the day. So far he wasn’t making much progress with the case. Time for Jimmy G to make a fast getaway before the judge got on his case.
He was snoozing in his car in the ferry line, his fedora pulled down over his eyes and nose, when he heard a rapping at his window. Startled awake, he looked out to see the face of the judge’s bodyguard. It wasn’t a good-looking face. The guy’s nose had obviously been broken at some time. He also had tape wrapped around one of his wrists.
“What’s up?” he said, rolling down his window, wondering how the guy had found him.
“That’s what my boss wants to know,” the guy said.
“Uh, going fine,” said Jimmy G.
“Did you get the trust document?”
Jimmy G pondered that for a moment. It would mean that he had been in Boswell’s house, and Boswell was now (according to Geri) dead.
“Have you heard about Boswell?” he asked.
“He died,” the guy said. He didn’t seem perturbed. That disturbed Jimmy G.
“What about the document?”
“It’s in a safe place,” said Jimmy G. He figured that would get him off the hook.
“The boss wants it.”
“Tell the boss Jimmy G will deliver it.”
“When?” The guy had a faint accent. Maybe Russian. That was disturbing, too.
“Jimmy G just needs to get back to Seattle—”
“The boss wants it now!” The guy leaned into the window. His jacket fell back, exposing the outlines of his shoulder holster and pistol. Jimmy G thought about his own pistol, wondered if he could pull it out of his shoulder holster faster than this joe could if things got dicey.
“What’s the hurry?’ he asked.
“Boss doesn’t like to wait.”
“Might take a while. Might even miss the last boat.”
“Then stay at the B&B again. The judge keeps a room reserved in his name there.”
“OK. Will do. Jimmy G has to contact his operatives. They’ve got the document.”
“Fine,” said the guy. “Just make sure you get it. And call us as soon as you have it in hand.”
He looked sideways down the line of cars. Jimmy G saw a flicker of fear in his pale-blue eyes.
Checking his rearview mirror, Jimmy G saw a man in uniform coming down the line of cars with a German shepherd. Pretty standard policy on the ferry system. The dog would be sniffing for drugs. Or explosives.
“Meanwhile, we’ll be watching you,” the guy said. And he disappeared.
Chapter 22
“Ah, it is good to be back to our own casa,” said Pepe as we got out of the car in front of my condo in the Eastlake neighborhood. Although the word condo might conjure up something sleek and modern, mine is a one-bedroom apartment in a brick courtyard built in the 1940s. It’s perched on the edge of a hill with just a tiny view of Lake Union from the front porch.
“It certainly is,” I told him as we started up the stairs to the porch.
We both saw the small package sitting on the porch at the same time.
“What’s this?” I picked up the package and noted that it had been sent from Amazon. “I didn’t order anything from Amazon.”
“Perhaps a present!” said Pepe. “Sent by a secret admirer!”
Albert the Cat greeted us with a great display of affection—that is, he wound around my legs, making loud meowing sounds. Pepe he ignored. That was OK with Pepe, who also ignored him.
“Andale, Geri!” Pepe said, circling around the dining room table, where I had placed the package. He was so excited he hadn’t even looked at his food dish. “Open it! Open it!”
I gave Albert a generous portion of wet cat food, a bribe since I had left him with only dry food overnight. Then I grabbed my kitchen scissors and attacked the package. Pepe jumped onto a chair and peered over the tabletop. That was unusual. He’s not usually so invested in the packages I receive.
“Oh my God,” I said, prying open the top of the box and gazing down at the object inside, swaddled in plastic and cellophane, “it’s an iPad!”
“Sí!” said Pepe. He hopped onto the table and poked his nose in the box.
“There must be some mistake,” I said. “I didn’t order an iPad.”
“I did!” Pepe said, taking his nose out of the box.
“You what?”
“Take it out of the box!” Pepe told me.
“Wait a minute. How could you have ordered this?”
“Simple, Geri. I got on the Internet, selected the item at Amazon, then hit the button for one-click ordering.”
I stared at my dog in disbelief. “And you did this when?”
“I believe it was Wednesday night,” he said. “You were getting busy in the bedroom with Felix.”
My pooch always surprises me, but this was too much. “These things cost over five hundred dollars, Pepe.”
“Plus shipping,” he told me.
“You should have asked me,” I told him. “I’m sending it back.”
He hung his head and looked as sad as only a sad Chihuahua can look. Which is pretty darn sad.
“You do not understand,” he said.
“What don’t I understand?”
“I was only trying to help.”
“Ordering an expensive item without my permission is helping?”
“Yes,” said Pepe. “I will use it to do research for our cases. We will solve twice as many cases with both of us having access to a computer.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“It has a touch screen—easy for me to manipulate with a simple swipe of a paw,” he said. “Plus, it has a virtual keypad—also much simpler for me to use since I am always getting my toenails stuck in the laptop keyboard.”
“Pepe—”
“I will also let you use it when I am not using it, partner.”
The way he emphasized the word partner brought me up short. Perhaps I was being a little selfish. After all, he had been instrumental in saving my life on several occasions. Of course, he had also gotten me into those sticky situations in the first place.
“OK,” I said, giving him a pat on his velvety head. “You can keep it.”
“Muy bien! I want to start using it right now!” He stood over it and began running his right forepaw over the iPad’s screen. “Hey!” he said. “It is not working!”
“Silly pup,” I told him. “It’s not charged yet. It will take a while. We have to use this white cord and plug it in to charge the battery.”
He shook his head sadly. “It is most cruel to get something you most dearly want and then not be able to use it.”
“Don’t worry, Pepe,” I told him. “I can plug it in to charge, and you can use it while it’s charging. How does that sound?”
“Better than bueno!” he said, doing another dance on the tabletop.
I got it plugged in for him, and he immediately began toying with it as the screen came on.
“It has a different operating system than Microsoft,” I told him. “Perhaps I should—”
“I will figure it out. Go make us something to eat,” said Pepe. “I shall google our deceased attorney, Boswell, and see what I can learn about his background.”
I opened up the refrigerator and inspected the contents, trying to figure out what I could make for Felix. I had some heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil I had purchased at the farmers market. I thought if I cooked some angel-hair pasta, I could toss them together, along with some parmesan.
I got the water boiling and was chopping up the tomatoes when I heard Pepe call out from the next room.
“Geri, come quick!” he said. I hurried into the dining room, only to find him mooning over a photo of Phoebe, the farm dog. She was sitting next to the sign that advertised Lost Lakes Lavender Farm, with the big silly grin typical of a Labrador on her furry face.
“I thought you were doing research for our case,” I said.
“I was!” said Pepe proudly. “I was lookin
g up the farm. And see what I found? Is she not the most beautiful being you have ever seen?”
At that moment the front doorbell rang, and I hurried to answer it. It was Felix, and he was actually the most beautiful being I have ever seen. His dark hair was combed back, and his dark eyes were shining with pleasure, and the bright white of his ironed shirt contrasted beautifully with his caramel-colored skin. Plus he was carrying a pint of my favorite chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream and a bouquet of sweet peas.
He was accompanied by his new furry companion, the little cream-colored poodle-terrier mix we all called Fuzzy. She went charging into the dining room. Albert hissed at her and vanished into the bedroom, while Fuzzy started barking at Pepe.
I took the time for a long, lingering kiss with Felix, then went to see what was happening.
“What’s this?” Felix asked, at the sight of Pepe perched on a chair, with his paws on the table, staring down at the screen. “You bought an iPad?”
“It was Pepe,” I said.
Felix just smiled. “Sure, it was.”
“No, really it was—” I started to say.
“It’s so cute how you blame everything on your dog,” said Felix, circling me with his arm. “And look, he has a new girlfriend!” He pointed at the photo of the black-and-white dog on the screen.
“Yes, that’s Phoebe. We met her while working on our latest case.”
“And how is that going?” Felix asked.
“I’ll tell you; just follow me into the kitchen. I’ve got to get the pasta into the water.”
“A little early for dinner, isn’t it?” Felix asked.
“I’m starving,” I said. “It’s been a while since breakfast.”
Fuzzy followed us into the kitchen, since Pepe was ignoring her. She polished off the food Pepe had left in his dish, so eager was he to use his new toy. To my surprise, the sound of the kibble crunching did not distract him.
Meanwhile, I told Felix about the royal cocker spaniels who had inherited a fortune. He looked as worried as Suzanna when he heard about the two dead lawyers.
Barking Detective 04 - The Chihuahua Always Sniffs Twice Page 9