The dogs whose kennels faced those areas must have sensed something. When one barked, a whole bark-fest ensued. Each ended quickly but it wasn’t long till the next. And instead of our usual interactions initiated by people from the path outside the kennels, it was the dogs who looked out hopefully, noses to the glass doors or mesh gates as they wagged their tails.
I let Brooke show the crime scene investigators where to go, including leading them to rooms to conduct their interviews.
This unfortunately wasn’t the first time there’d been a murder at HotRescues. But I fervently hoped it would be the last.
I made a few calls as I waited, including to Tracy and Kevin. My kids at college always worried about me, and I wanted to let them know what had happened as well as that I was okay. This situation would undoubtedly make the news, and they’d told me more than once when they had seen or heard something about HotRescues or me in the media.
I was glad that Antonio decided to interrogate me himself. He’d be gentle, at least.
I’d left Zoey in my office during the party so I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting loose. I walked her again now, and then we returned to my office. She stayed close beside me, as if she knew something was wrong.
Antonio joined us there, sitting across from my desk. “Tell me everything you can remember about this afternoon,” Antonio said, “moment by moment.” He was dressed like a detective that day, although he had removed his suit jacket and tie. Despite our being friends, his tense demeanor combined with his official-looking white shirt and black trousers were a bit intimidating. The furrow of his jutting brow and his penetrating gaze intensified my unease. He wasn’t a handsome man but his looks were—well, arresting, in more ways than one.
I described my preparations for the party with the help of mostly staff—Nina and Pete—and with some assistance by volunteers. “I made it a point to be in the welcome area, though, when people began to arrive. Some were here because they have relationships with HotRescues and came to celebrate, but we had some visitors today, too—people who didn’t know this was anything besides a normal Saturday, when they’re welcome to check out our animals to see who’s available for adoption. I can give you copies of the forms some completed—the ones who wanted to adopt and therefore filled out applications.”
“That’ll help.”
I went to the welcome area, extracted the applications from the file, and made copies for Antonio. Then we returned to my office.
Seated on the couch across from my desk this time, I started recounting to the best of my recollection the people I knew who’d been here and the order in which they’d arrived.
And then I stopped and stared at him.
“I almost forgot,” I said. “Maybe the most important person of all. Teresa didn’t come here by herself. Her boyfriend was with her.”
“Where is he now?” Antonio asked. He sat on the other side of the sofa, both recording what I said and making notes on a pad of paper.
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to him much, even when he was with Teresa. The other day, he tried to explain her to me, why she acted so unfriendly—jealousy, I guess, since she had hopes of starting her own shelter in the area where all those little dogs were saved. He was with her when she arrived here today. But when I kept seeing her wander around the place—and, most especially, hanging out with the HotPets staff and giving them a hard time . . . Well, I think he stayed with her part of the time, but he sort of blended into the crowd. I didn’t see him when I set our staff and volunteers to their end-of-day duties, nor when I left Teresa’s . . . body.”
Antonio looked at me quizzically with his intense brown eyes. “Do you have any reason to believe he killed her?”
“That would make more sense than anyone else here, wouldn’t it?”
“Would it?”
I wilted a little. “I’m not actually sure. He loved her, I assume. He drove all the way across country to be with her, to drive her back home when she was ready. He—you know, she has a cousin here named Elsa. That’s who she stayed with before Mark arrived. Mark Black. That’s her boyfriend. I don’t know Elsa’s last name. Maybe they both were staying with Elsa. I don’t know.”
“We’ll look into it.” He paused. “Thanks, Lauren. I’ll try to get our SID folks out of here as soon as possible.”
“At least the crime scene is our quarantine building—and it’s empty now.”
“Oh, right. Your reason for the party was to celebrate the release of the little dogs into the regular adoption areas, right? I think that’s what Brooke told me.”
“Yes.” I sighed. “I’d already figured they could get adopted fast, since teacup-sized dogs are really popular around here at the moment. And now—well, they may go even faster when news about the murder goes public and that attracts nosy people to check the place out. People addicted to gossip and paparazzi like animals, too.”
“Maybe. Meantime, I’d suggest you call your security company and have them put an additional detail on the premises tonight.”
• • •
I did that, of course.
EverySecurity, the company that also took care of the HotPets stores, had missed seeing the first murder months ago, which had taken place outside here at night, despite their security cameras mounted nearby. There were none in the quarantine building, though. And since then, EverySecurity had been a lot more attentive. I felt sure it was because they were concerned more about losing Dante’s business than the security of our animals.
But we also had someone sleep here each night—Brooke or one of her private contract staff. Tonight, she had designated herself as the person who’d be here. Fortunately, Antonio decided to remain with her.
And me? Well, I had Zoey at my side as I took my final walk of the night through HotRescues, staying as far as possible from the crime scene investigation. I even brought Zoey into the cat house but commanded her to stay by the door.
The cats seemed their usual selves, some friendly and some aloof, but all wonderful potential pets. I was glad that today’s activities hadn’t affected them.
Then we went into the building where our newest little rescues were now housed. Zoey again just sat by the door as I went from one kennel to the next, patting and hugging the small guys and girls and assuring them that they were so adorable that they were sure to get new homes soon.
I didn’t mention what had happened to the woman who’d accompanied them across the country.
Eventually, it was time for us to leave.
But I felt unnerved. Uneasy. Not afraid to be by myself . . . yet not wanting to be, either.
I said good night to Brooke and Antonio.
And then, returning to the welcome area, I called Matt. Again. I’d already phoned him to let him know what had happened.
His workday was over. He and his dog, Rex, would meet Zoey and me at our house.
Chapter 8
Preparing to leave, I went through my usual routine of shutting down my computer and checking to make sure that everything in the entry building, from the welcome room to my office and the door to the kennel area, was in order. Then I grabbed my purse and snapped a leash on Zoey. “Time to go, girl.”
I felt exhausted. Way too much excitement for one day—both the good stuff, celebrating the little dogs’ graduation from quarantine to adoptability, to the really terrible stuff, another apparent murder at HotRescues. My place. The shelter where the only thing that should matter was saving and rehoming animals.
And certainly no one, pet or human, should die here.
But that was what people would hear now about HotRescues. As I’d figured, the death of Teresa Kantrim was already in the news. Liam had called me to confirm it, and he would only add to the hype.
At least he would put a positive spin on the shelter where the death had occurred. Who knew what the other news types would do?
And maybe it hadn’t been murder. An odor near Teresa’s mouth didn’t
mean she’d been poisoned. Maybe she’d just had a heart attack, or some other health issue had felled her. The situation was sad no matter how she died, of course, but at least a health issue wouldn’t reflect badly on HotRescues.
I checked the door after we walked through it to be sure it was locked. Then Zoey dragged me along with her leash toward our car in the parking lot. She had a lot more energy than I did.
Plus, we were going home, where she would have all my attention for a few hours, even when we slept.
The side parking lot was nearly empty. I’d gathered that the authorities had parked in the alley behind our storage building. I reached into my pocket for my key and pressed the remote button to unlock the Venza’s door.
That was when Zoey darted from in front of me, barking and pulling even harder on her lead. I pivoted to look at what she was lunging toward.
Mark Black emerged from the shadows beneath one of the parking-lot lights.
I held Zoey back from leaping on him. At the same time, I hurriedly opened the car door and pulled Zoey even harder, wanting her to jump inside before me.
If Teresa had been murdered, the person likely to be the number one suspect was right here, and we were alone with him.
But Zoey was intent on reaching Mark. She’d stopped barking, but she continued to pull on her leash. “Come, Zoey,” I commanded, yanking in a tug strong enough to get her attention but not hard enough to hurt her.
She stopped for a moment, and I pulled again.
She finally started to obey. But it was too late.
Mark was right in front of me. His back was to the light, so his face was in shadow. All I could see was the silhouette of his tall, thin form.
“She’s dead,” his voice rasped.
I moved slightly, positioning my purse so I could reach for my phone. I didn’t have anything I could use as a weapon if he attacked.
Nothing besides Zoey, and I was scared that he’d harm her, too.
“Yes,” I managed to say brusquely, edging backward. Maybe I could turn enough to encourage Zoey to jump inside the car. I’d follow quickly and lock the door behind me, and—
“It’s my fault,” he said with a sob, his words slurred. He sounded drunk, and although he stood still, his body swayed. Was this a murder confession? I wasn’t recording it.
And the fact that he was telling me wasn’t good. Maybe he intended to kill me, too.
I wouldn’t let him. I carefully dug down in my purse, still seeking my phone. At the same time, I kept moving slowly toward my car. If I kept talking, maybe he wouldn’t pay attention to what else I did. “Would you like to tell me what happened, Mark?”
“Do you know where she is now?” he responded.
“The authorities took her away. Some police are still here. Would you like to tell them what happened?”
“No, I just want to know . . . did she suffer?”
I’d no way of knowing. She’d looked more or less at peace when I found her, but who knew what she’d gone through?
“That’s something the police will be able to tell you better than I can,” I said gently. “Let’s go back inside and I’ll take you to them.”
“It all went wrong,” he said, folding onto the ground. “She was drinking too much. We argued, and I told her she was acting like an ass, that no one would want to listen to her. She was fighting with everyone, including me. I wanted to show her I didn’t care, so I walked away. One of the volunteers was leaving then—Pam—and I invited her out for a drink. We left. And then Pam left me at the bar because all I could do was talk about Teresa.”
Pam. She was a relatively new volunteer, young and enthusiastic and pretty.
Would she provide this man an alibi for murder? Of course, he hadn’t said when they’d left or what he’d done after Pam walked out.
“That’s when you came back here?” I prompted. “And you got Teresa alone to talk to her and make up, right?”
He suddenly stood again, towering over me even as he swayed again. “Are you implying that I killed her?” Even in the shadows, I couldn’t help seeing how he clenched his fists at his side. I smelled alcohol on his breath, despite the distance.
Zoey must have sensed his anger, too. She started growling, low in her throat. I wanted to hug her for trying to protect me, but I was as much afraid for her as I was for myself.
I hid what I felt as I spoke in a businesslike tone. “I’m only asking what happened. I found her, and she was gone. I know you’re in pain, and I’d like to understand how things went between you. I’m not accusing you or anyone else. That’s up to the police, assuming they determine she didn’t just die of natural causes. And so far, I haven’t heard otherwise.” Despite what I might suspect.
“I blame you for what happened, Lauren. She shouldn’t have come here. She shouldn’t have had to worry about those little dogs. She wanted to save them herself, and you stopped that. And she told me there was something else going on. Something—”
He’d been moving closer to me as he spoke. I was near enough to get into the car, maybe even slam him with the door, but I couldn’t be sure what Zoey would do.
I wouldn’t let her be hurt, no matter what.
But before I had to make a decision, I heard the building door burst open and footsteps running toward us. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Mark, so I just stood there ready to hit him with my purse or gouge his eyes or whatever it took to protect Zoey and me, but I waited.
Good thing I did. “Mark Black?” growled the angry voice of Antonio Bautrel. In moments, he had put himself in front of Zoey and me, facing Mark. He flashed his police badge. “Come with me, please. We have some questions for you.”
• • •
“Matt was frantic when he called,” Brooke told me a few minutes later as I sat with her at the front table in the welcome area. “You’d better phone him right away and let him know you’re okay.”
I did so, promising I’d still meet him at my house, but not for another hour. He offered to come pick Zoey and me up, but I figured I’d be all right now.
I was sure that Brooke and Antonio would accompany me to my car this time, though. Thank heavens for them and their quick reaction.
I’d managed to push the button on my phone that called the last number I’d connected to. That had been Matt. He’d overheard some of what was going on and called Brooke immediately.
That was why Antonio had rushed outside to help me—and to bring in a major suspect in Teresa Kantrim’s death.
Even though it wasn’t yet established for sure that she’d been murdered, that was the assumption everyone had made.
I wasn’t the only one who’d smelled burnt almonds around her face. The coroner would be conducting tests.
I heard the door open at the end of the hall toward the kennel area, and Zoey, who’d been lying on the floor beside me, stood at attention. Antonio soon appeared.
“Did you get a confession?” Brooke asked immediately. I, too, waited for the answer.
“The guy’s smart enough not to talk right now. He asked for a lawyer. But so far, he’s denied harming his girlfriend. I’ve left him with the detective assigned to this case, and I suspect he’ll stay in custody at least overnight.”
I nodded. Mark was certainly the most likely killer, if it was determined that Teresa had been murdered.
On the other hand, she’d not made a lot of friends on her short visit to L.A. Little dogs? Maybe. People? No, I’d consider those I’d seen her with anything but buddies.
But who else would have had a motive to kill her?
This time I’d surely be able to leave it to the police to find out. No one I cared about was likely to be named a person of interest, let alone a suspect.
Or so I believed as Zoey, Brooke, Antonio, and I walked to my car. I called Matt again, confirmed we were on our way home, and he promised he’d be waiting at the entrance to my gated community.
I drove home carefully but quickly.
Chapter
9
Though it was late, my gated community was safe, and the streets were well lighted.
Rex and Zoey deserved attention and a nice, leisurely walk. Or so I’d insisted to Matt as soon as we got inside my home.
He’d waited at the outside gate for me as promised and followed me down the road. I’d hurried all four of us out the door almost immediately after we got inside my house.
I knew what to expect from Matt, and I figured he’d be more patient if the neighbors might hear or observe what he did.
He was a kind guy. And concerned. He kept telling me to stay far away from danger and other kinds of trouble.
If only that had been possible . . .
“Okay, I think I’ve waited long enough,” he said when we were on the sidewalk only a few feet from my house. “Tell me everything that happened.”
I stopped and looked up at him. Matt was a good-looking man, with short, dark hair, toast-colored eyes, and a killer smile. Not that I’d ever mention the latter to him.
He’d told me often that I was around killers too much. And he was right. But each time, I’d really had no choice.
“That’s exactly it,” I told him. “Things just seemed to happen. I didn’t go looking for any of it. I know I promised I’d tell you if I ever got involved with trying to solve a murder again. I don’t want to try to solve this one. But it happened at HotRescues.”
“And you found the body.” It wasn’t a question. I hadn’t mentioned that when he’d been listening on the phone to my conversation with Mark, but I’d let him know when he and I had actually talked. Plus, if he hadn’t believed it, he could have heard it on the news.
“Yes.” I sent him a rueful look, then decided standing here discussing it wasn’t a good idea. I turned and pulled slightly on Zoey’s leash.
Rex and she had been sniffing at the same area on a tree trunk—low enough that I figured some male dog had probably lifted his leg there. Rex was a smart black Lab mix, and he and Zoey got along like best friends. That was a good thing, since Matt and I hung out a lot together and we both loved our dogs. That meant the dogs, too, hung out a lot together—sometimes overnight in one home or the other.
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