Teacup Tubulence

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Teacup Tubulence Page 5

by Linda O. Johnston


  But there was one thing I could tell her that she probably wasn’t aware of—unless she’d gotten the information from another source we apparently both knew.

  “The little ones are doing well,” I said as we walked around the loop at the back of the shelter, beyond the first kennel area and all the volunteers who were inside enclosures helping to socialize the dogs. “That means their quarantine will be over in a few days. In fact, next weekend we’re going to throw a party right here to help celebrate their availability for adoption.”

  “And we’re invited?” Mark asked hopefully.

  “Everyone’s invited,” I said, glancing at Teresa. She didn’t look impressed.

  And if I’d known the results of that party, I would never have held it at all.

  Chapter 6

  I’m usually not one for throwing parties, but this was definitely a special occasion.

  The little dogs were finally out of quarantine.

  I could have let them out yesterday, which was Friday, about a week after we’d brought them to HotRescues. But it’s easier to get attendance at a Saturday event, so I’d apologized to the little gem-named puppies and waited until today.

  Sort of. In actuality, I’d let our kennel staff and volunteers take them out to play starting yesterday. No sense penalizing the little guys for timing that was my responsibility, not theirs.

  Now, though, I was the HotRescues chief greeter as people came in through the usual public entrance, our welcome area. It was a small room, so to keep it from getting jammed up I greeted attendees quickly, then pointed them to the hallway with the door to the kennel area.

  “So glad to see you here,” I said to Naya and Tom Fayler as they came in the door.

  “Couldn’t resist,” Tom said. “Or at least Naya couldn’t.” Tom was dressed in what I assumed to be his business casual. I’d only seen him in button-down shirts, and this afternoon the blue one he wore was tucked into nice slacks instead of loose over jeans like his outfit on flying day. But he’d not lost his broad smile nor his loving glances at his spouse.

  Naya was also in a shirt and slacks today. She had dolled herself up with makeup for the event and looked quite pretty. “Thanks so much for inviting us, Lauren,” she said, giving me a quick hug.

  “No,” I said, “thank you, since without you I wouldn’t have all those adorable little dogs whose freedom and availability we’re about to celebrate.”

  “Where are they now?” Naya asked.

  “Yes, where are they?” That frigid tone came from behind the Faylers. Teresa Kantrim walked around them, her boyfriend, Mark Black, edging around to stay with her.

  “We’re going to have a ceremony soon showing their release from quarantine.” I tried to smile, but Teresa’s scowl didn’t invite one in her direction. Instead, I aimed it at Mark.

  “Welcome,” I said. I’d have preferred not inviting either to the party, but if I wanted to have any hope of being able to rehome the rest of the teacup dogs still left in her area, I’d had no choice.

  “Thanks,” said Mark. His large brow was furrowed, which only called attention to the narrowness of his face. At least it seemed to fit his thin body. Like his girlfriend, he wasn’t dressed to party. Jeans are accepted everywhere, but his Chicago Bears T-shirt looked grubby.

  Teresa wore an animal rescue T-shirt, at least, one that depicted two happy dogs smiling at each other. Too bad she couldn’t mirror their expressions.

  More people were coming through the door. I needed to clear out this space. “You’ve been here before,” I said to Teresa. “How about if you show the Faylers down that hall and into the kennel area.”

  Of course I’d given her a tour of HotRescues to show off our wonderful facilities—where the dogs she had followed cross-country would be housed till adopted.

  She hadn’t seemed impressed. Oh, well.

  “Sure,” she said now. “I’d be glad to show the Faylers something they don’t already know. Maybe then they’ll start telling the truth about what they do know.” With that, she turned her back, gestured for Mark to follow, then started walking down the hall.

  I looked toward Tom. “What was that about?” I asked quietly.

  “Damned if I know. But I think maybe someone should keep an eye on that kook.” He took Naya’s hand and they followed Teresa and Mark.

  I was shaking my head in astonishment when our next guests arrived. Dante and Kendra. I’d also invited their dogs to this special event. Dante had his German shepherd Wagner on a leash, and Kendra had brought Lexie, her cute tricolor Cavalier King Charles spaniel.

  “Welcome,” I said. “I’ll be holding the ceremony soon outside the quarantine building. You know the way.”

  They were followed by some of the HotPets staff, including Chris Mandrea, the HotPets Bling designer, and Sheila Sheltron, Dante’s administrative assistant. Sheila had brought her boyfriend, a football-player-broad and tall guy named Vince, who smiled a lot but looked uncomfortable in the crowd.

  The women, including Kendra, were wearing Bling necklaces like the ones distributed at the anniversary party—and like the one I, too, wore over my HotRescues T-shirt that I’d dressed up by wearing a frilly shirt on top and a swingy black skirt beneath.

  I greeted them all, delighted at our turnout. Since this was Saturday, we also had a rush of potential adopters, and I invited them all in for the party, too.

  And of course a lot of our staff and volunteers were also there, including our part-timers like Margo Yardley, our groomer, and Gavin Mamo, our trainer, as well as Dr. Mona, our pet-adoption shrink.

  Plus, to my surprise and pleasure, two people originally from Missouri who now lived in L.A.—and who’d been contacted by Juliet Ansiger—were there, too: Rhoda and Stu Krieg.

  “We’re real pet lovers,” Rhoda said, “and we heard from Juliet about that really special cross-country rescue you did.” She was a slight young woman, with buckteeth and black short hair with a single highlighted silver streak, who smiled and shook my hand. “One thing, though.” She frowned.

  “What’s that?” I asked, though I suspected I didn’t really want to hear it.

  “We—” began Stu, who was about the same height as the woman I presumed was his wife. But he was interrupted by Teresa, who suddenly joined us.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Did Juliet tell you I was here? I thought I’d never have to see you again once you moved away, but here you are.”

  “Yes,” Stu said with a grin that somehow looked malicious on an otherwise bland face. “Here we are. And I have a good idea what your ulterior motive is for being here. But you aren’t staying, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Teresa spat. “Especially because you’re here.”

  Before I could ask what that was all about, Teresa stormed off.

  “What a witch,” Rhoda said, and then she and Stu, too, walked away—in the opposite direction, leaving me shaking my head.

  “Everything okay here, Lauren?” asked Nina, who had bucked the crowd going down the hallway from the kennel. Our staff and a lot of volunteers were already in the back schmoozing with and entertaining our guests.

  “Fine,” I assured her, wishing I believed it. Well, heck, I did believe it. Those strangers had nothing to do with anything around here. “It’s almost time for our ceremony, isn’t it?”

  “That’s why I came up here. I’d love to hear you, but someone needs to be here since people are still arriving.”

  As if she’d needed to be introduced, Carlie walked in just then. Liam was with her, and the TV executive carried a camera. “It’s okay if we take videos, isn’t it, Lauren?” Carlie asked.

  “Are they likely to show up on Pet Fitness or on KVKV?” That’s the TV station where Liam works. I was never quite certain of his function there, but he sometimes appeared on camera as well as working behind the scenes.

  “Only if you okay it,” Liam assured me. The guy acted like a know-it-all sometimes, and I wasn’t alwa
ys sure he was right for Carlie, but lately he’d been on his best behavior.

  “Which I’ll probably do. The more publicity those cute little dogs get, the sooner they’ll get adopted—and the easier it’ll be for me to get more from that puppy-mill rescue. So,” I finished, “take all the pictures you want.”

  Leaving Nina in charge, I walked down the hall with Carlie and Liam.

  “How are my little friends?” Carlie asked. She’d dressed up as if she knew she would be on camera—which of course she would. Liam would get her in some of the shots, I felt sure.

  “Doing very well, thanks to you,” I said.

  “I didn’t do anything but examine and watch them,” she said. “They were fortunately already healthy.”

  I looked at Liam. He wore a suit today, as if he planned on getting in the picture, too. Or maybe just so he could look like the TV big shot he was. The shows he got involved with tended to be sensational or gossipy stories, but he was one cute announcer, with wavy hair and a hard-to-resist come-hither smile.

  Apparently Carlie didn’t resist.

  “Hey, Lauren.” I turned toward the voice behind me, not even attempting to hide the grin on my face.

  Matt had made it. He hadn’t been sure he could when I’d invited him. L.A. Animal Services personnel could be on call twenty-four/seven, and he knew of a training session that would be carried out today. He wore his brown logo T-shirt over green slacks, as he did a lot of the time on the job.

  He caught up with me and gave me a quick kiss. “I take it you haven’t done the big release yet, right?”

  “Right. You’re just in time.”

  There were a lot of people in our kennel area now, including Dr. Mona, Margo, Gavin Mamo, Security Director Brooke Pernall, and handyman Pete. Then there were a bunch of volunteers, most of whom spread out when they visited, always at times most convenient to them.

  But it seemed that a lot of them wanted to attend this fun event.

  There were kennels on both sides of the path at the beginning of our shelter area. A building on the right contained a kitchen and security area downstairs, and the apartment where our security staff slept overnight upstairs. Our large shed, full of animal food and other supplies, lined the back of the shelter, and the path formed a U there. Around the bend was the newest part of our facilities. It contained more kennels for medium to large dogs, plus several buildings. One was a cat house. Another was a place for smaller dogs, where our new little temporary residents would be housed.

  And then there was the building we used for quarantining new arrivals and the ill.

  I led the way through the crowd, with Matt, Carlie, and Liam in my wake. Some of the dogs in the kennels were barking, which at this point couldn’t be helped. I did order people to keep their fingers out of the enclosures, though. None of our dogs were particularly aggressive, but with all the extra tension caused by the crowd, one might just decide to nip a guest or two.

  I had to stop briefly and say hi to a lot of our guests, so it took a while to get around the corner and to the building that was my goal.

  But soon, I was inside. With the help of Pete and some of our volunteers, I leashed up the teacup pups and we brought them outside. I’d already asked other volunteers to work on clearing an area near the door, and they had succeeded.

  Holding the leashes of two of the little guys—all of them wearing HotPets Bling collars in addition to their own—I yelled out to get everyone’s attention.

  “Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming.” I waited for a moment for the roar of conversations to soften to a soft buzz. “Now’s the time we’ve all been waiting for, or at least these guys have. I’d like all of you to welcome to HotRescues our special newest rescues”—I glanced at my notes—“Amethyst, Aquamarine, Diamond, Emerald, Garnet, Lapis, Onyx, Opal, Rhinestone, Ruby, Sapphire, and Topaz.” If anyone asked which was which, I could tell from my notes, which contained breed and coloration, and I did know most of them by heart. Because I really cared about them. “Okay, pups, you’re free from quarantine and ready to find new forever homes. Welcome to HotRescues, and let’s celebrate. Let the party begin!”

  • • •

  Which it did. With my supervision, the staff and volunteers first paraded the little guys around the podium area, all of them adorable and prancing proudly on their leashes: three Pomeranians, two Yorkies, a shih tzu, a miniature poodle, a silky terrier, a Maltese, a Pekingese, and two Chihuahuas.

  Then my human gang moved the new temporary residents into kennels on the first floor of the small-dog building. There were offices upstairs, but no one was in them now. I didn’t want the little dogs to be frightened by all the people—if they weren’t already—from my little ceremony. I had staff and volunteers stationed at the door to let only a few people in at a time to see the dogs up close and personal.

  Otherwise, we were all here to party.

  I circulated through the crowd. We had drinks and food, nothing as elegant as there’d been at Dante’s party, but it was still good stuff.

  I kept my eyes and ears open. Most of the HotPets corporate staff hung out together, and their conversations seemed to focus on the new Bling line and what would come next. They all seemed jazzed about it, so I assumed that the dog collars were continuing to sell well.

  I noticed that Teresa was being her usual brittle and nasty self. She joined that group for a while, apparently to goad the Faylers, even as she seemed to swig one drink after another.

  And they weren’t the only people she was nasty to. She seemed to argue with nearly everyone she met, including the other HotPets folks, my staff and volunteers, our would-be adopters, and even Dante.

  I wished I could just throw her out. But I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore her.

  Later, in hindsight, I wished I’d given her the boot.

  But that was only after the party had ended, and I’d said good-bye to a whole bunch of people, including Dante, Kendra, and their dogs. Matt left, too, to head to one of the public shelters for an after-hours meeting, and Carlie and Liam also said good night.

  By then, it was past our hours for being open. With everyone else gone, our staff and volunteers got down to work to feed our poor residents, who were understandably nervous after our event.

  While the animals were eating and our staff and volunteers were cleaning our regular areas, I went inside the quarantine building to start cleaning it as well.

  That was when I found Teresa Kantrim.

  Or rather, her body.

  She was lying on the floor and, judging by her position, she was dead.

  Chapter 7

  I couldn’t be certain she was gone, though, no matter what she looked like. “Teresa?” I called, hurrying quickly to where she lay on the concrete floor. Her limbs were splayed, and her complexion was gray. I knelt to feel her neck for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  I yanked my phone from my pocket and called our security chief, Brooke, quickly telling her to call 911 and then come to the quarantine building.

  Then, just in case, I started doing CPR on Teresa.

  No response to chest compressions. I didn’t really want to try breathing into her mouth, but in case that would help I repositioned her with her head back, held her nostrils shut, and opened her lips.

  But when I got closer, I smelled something. Nuts? I wasn’t sure, but I hesitated putting my mouth on hers.

  Brooke shoved in the door just then and ran into the room. “What the hell?” She bent beside me and repeated my attempts to find a pulse as I again started chest compressions.

  “I didn’t want . . . Smell her breath.”

  Brooke did. “Hell, was she poisoned? It smells like almonds—and I’ve always heard that’s the scent of cyanide. You okay doing that?”

  Continuing the chest compressions, I nodded, my own breathing now somewhat irregular and short. “For now. But I think it’s too late. Did you call 911?”

  “Yeah, on the way here. Let me take over. You can
go let the cops in.”

  Unfortunately, Brooke’s guy Antonio Bautrel, an LAPD detective, had been on duty that day and hadn’t made it to our party. I told Brooke to call him first, and then I’d gladly let her continue CPR on the woman I believed by then was already a corpse.

  Brooke pulled out her phone and pushed one button. I wasn’t surprised that Antonio was programmed in. I kept up my strenuous attempts to revive Teresa as I listened to Brooke give a brief description. She waited for a few seconds with the phone at her ear, then pushed a button again. “He’s coming, too.”

  We traded places. I watched her for a few seconds. She was the pro when it came to saving lives and handling security matters. I’d done some training on reviving animals, but not people. I was glad to see I’d been doing things right.

  Even so, Brooke had no better luck than I had.

  Teresa was gone.

  • • •

  Later that night, the coroner came and took Teresa after she was pronounced dead by the EMTs. A crime scene team from the Scientific Investigation Division was at work as well.

  Even after the cops arrived, I remained scared for our guests and my HotRescues personnel. Even more scared for the animals. Were they all okay? If something had been laced with poison, the danger might not be limited to Teresa.

  Still, while Brooke and I had struggled to help Teresa, staff and volunteers had done as they were supposed to: feed the animals and clean their enclosures.

  No one else had found anyone—canine, feline, or human—who was anything but fine.

  I’d asked everyone if they’d seen anything unusual. No one had.

  I would have time to talk with them—more than I’d wanted. I knew the drill, and Antonio, arriving about half an hour after Brooke’s call, confirmed that no one was to leave until their information had been collected and they’d been questioned by the police.

  This time, as people congregated in the walkways between kennels and buildings, the mood was a lot less exuberant.

 

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