Teacup Tubulence

by Linda O. Johnston

  We observed for another twenty minutes, and then I followed Dante out the door opposite the one through which I’d entered the assembly room.

  I stopped, looking around this next chamber—not much like the one where the collars were put together, but surrounded with small computer screens that were configured like the digital ads promoting HotPets Bling.

  “Wow,” I said. “Are all your manufacturing facilities like this, Dante?”

  “No, this one’s special in a lot of ways. Plus, it’s the newest, so we’ve had fun putting it together with all the best and latest technology.”

  I didn’t mention the fact that people, and not just machines, helped to create the individual collars. But I liked the hands-on approach and figured that, since the Bling collars contained artistry, having human hands finish them was only part of the magic behind them.

  “I’m assuming you’ve shown me this so I’ll be an even better advocate about selling the ones you’re going to let me peddle at HotRescues, right?”

  “You could say that.” Dante laughed. “Anyway, I’ve got to hurry back to the office, but Chris will help you load a few boxes into your car for you, okay?”

  “Sounds great!” We discussed for a minute what the sales price should be—the same as in the HotPets stores, since the Bling collars weren’t going to help convince people to adopt. Instead, they, and their ads, were a lure that brought people into HotRescues to see the teacup dogs those folks already hoped to adopt.

  Dante led me to a storage room filled with boxes of already finished collars. Chris started to follow us in, but Dante said, “Hey, there’s something I wanted to go over with you. Let’s go outside.”

  I watched them head down the hall together, and then I started peeking into the cardboard boxes that hadn’t been taped shut. In each, one side seemed to have collars of one design, with collars of another design opposite them, all wrapped in sealed plastic bags.

  I liked the ones with dog bones and pointed ears the best. But I’d take whichever boxes Chris thought best.

  For now, though, I didn’t know how long the men would be talking, and I had a somewhat long ride back to HotRescues. I decided to find a restroom.

  The facility was a bit of a maze, with all its hallways and locked doors in areas that would probably be utilized as the collars’ territory expanded, but were now unused. I admit to being curious about nearly everything, so I decided to explore the building, just for the fun of it.

  Although I would have to find a restroom soon.

  Okay, I admit to something else: I got lost in the vastness of the place. I decided to backtrack the way I thought I’d come and go back into the room filled with machinery and people, then ask someone where the ladies’ was. That wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  I gave it a try, though. I also tugged on some door handles, thinking I might have a better shot at figuring out where I was if I could look out a window or two.

  Most doors were locked. I did find one that was open, though, and went inside the room. It contained no windows, but on the floor sat some boxes similar to the ones I’d been checking out before. I peeked in the tops of a couple.

  Unsurprisingly, they contained Bling collars. The designs were a little different from the ones I’d already picked out. Maybe I could take a couple of boxes of each. These had faux jewels set in the shapes of tiaras and dog noses set into them. Cute!

  The boxes were too heavy for me to carry long distances, and Dante had said that Chris would help me anyhow. I left these boxes here and again went in search of a restroom and what civilization there was in this building.

  Fortunately, I found a room marked LADIES and went inside. After I’d used its facilities, I felt a lot more relaxed and started out once more in the direction from which I thought I’d come.

  “Oh, there you are, Lauren,” said a voice from behind me. I turned, and Chris was hurrying down the hall. “I looked for you around where the boxes of collars are stored. Dante told me you’re to get three boxes’ worth to sell at HotRescues. Are you ready for me to help you out to your car with them?”

  “Definitely.” I checked my watch. The morning was almost over, and I needed to get back to HotRescues to see if today was as crazy as yesterday.

  And maybe sell a few Bling collars along with finalizing some adoptions.

  I followed Chris down the hallway and around a corner, and the area did start to seem a little more familiar. He opened a door, and there were all the first boxes of collars that I had looked at.

  “This side contains my designs of dog bones and representations of pointed ears,” he said, “and the others over there have gems set to look like sticks to throw and dog treat boxes. You’re to get three boxes to take along. Which design would you like two boxes of?”

  “Well, to have a variety, I’d like the third box to contain the other design I saw as I was . . . er, checking out the facility.” I didn’t want to admit to him that I’d been lost. “The ones with designs of dog noses and tiaras.”

  He blinked, and his usually pleasantly smug expression seemed to turn lost, but only for an instant. “Oh. Those. They’re off by themselves because they’re something new and not ready to sell yet. Sorry. Maybe next time.”

  “Okay. Let’s go ahead and pack these in my car. I need to leave soon. Oh, and Chris?”

  “Yes?” That impishness was back on his face. “Are you going to tell me how much you love my designs?”

  “Yes,” I said, “I am.”

  Chapter 22

  It was Sunday. I was back at Van Nuys Airport with Naya and Tom, standing near their plane. And this time I wasn’t just seeing them off.

  I was swallowing my fears about traveling in small planes and going with them.

  Which made sense to me. I always liked to face my fears and overcome them. This particular one, in these circumstances, begged to be cast aside.

  I was going to help save a bunch more little dogs.

  “We’re almost ready to go, Lauren.” Naya positively beamed, with her chestnut hair whipping a bit around her face in the wind from noisy aircraft taking off and landing nearby. This time, her pilot’s uniform consisted of black slacks and a lacy shirt adorned with one of the HotPets Bling human necklaces in blue. I had the impression that she was ready to soar, and that the flight would lift away all her cares around here—including the fact that she was a person of interest in a murder investigation.

  “Great,” I finally replied.

  She looked at me. “That sounded lukewarm. Are you sure you want to come?”

  “Absolutely.” I shifted my glance between Tom and her. “This will be a different experience for me, and I love to take on new challenges.”

  Tom laughed. “So you consider flying with us a challenge?”

  “Only if you don’t know how to fly this thing.” I gestured toward the small aircraft behind them.

  “Oh, we’ve been doing this for quite a while,” he said. “One thing that even Teresa didn’t complain about was how we were piloting our craft.”

  That was true, at least as far as I knew. “I’m ready whenever you are,” I assured them both.

  I felt pretty good when, a few minutes later, I sat behind them in the plane. They were going through some apparently habitual moves to review equipment, rehashing a memorized list that they then discussed aloud. It sounded as if everything checked out fine. Then both put on earphones. I just watched, telling myself that all of that would make sure everything remained safe.

  I hoped.

  Several boxes were piled beside me on the second passenger seat. At least one more was in the back along with an assortment of small-dog crates—ones that could hold the dozen we expected to pick up in Las Vegas.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse to check the time—10:34 AM. I considered calling Matt again, but decided not to. I’d already talked with him that morning. We had gone out for dinner and a movie the night before and I’d told him then about my planned one-day trip tod
ay.

  “Sounds like it could be fun, Lauren,” he had told me as we both drank large glasses of beer. “But—”

  “I know.” I’d tried not to roll my eyes. “Be careful.”

  “Yeah, that,” he said, regarding me sternly with his toast-colored eyes. “Especially since I’ve no doubt you’ll try to turn this into part of your amateur investigation into Teresa Kantrim’s death.”

  “Only if it makes sense to ask questions or whatever.” I’d tried to glare at him in case he wanted to argue about it, but I wasn’t very successful. For one thing, he was one good-looking guy and I felt pretty sure that our evening wouldn’t end with the finale of the movie . . . and it hadn’t.

  For another, even though he’d annoyed me yet again with his fussing over what I did regarding this latest murder I’d stumbled over, I reminded myself that he groused at me because he cared.

  He’d left Rex at my place with Zoey when we went out, and both Matt and his dog had stayed the night.

  When he was ready to leave Sunday morning, Matt had given me an unforgettable kiss good-bye. “Be careful,” he said again.

  “I will,” I promised.

  And, as an encore, he had called me once more around nine o’clock, as I’d left Zoey at HotRescues and gotten ready to drive to the Van Nuys Airport.

  “Hi, Lauren,” he’d said. “Just calling to check in and—”

  “—Tell me to be careful,” I’d finished for him. I had tried to sound irritated, but I failed. “I will. Honest. And to prove it, I know we don’t usually see each other two nights in a row, but I should be home tonight before dinnertime. I’ll still have to drop the dogs off at Carlie’s for a checkup, but I’ll be available after that. Maybe we can have dinner with Dante tonight so I can fill him in on my day.”

  “Sure. Call me when you’re leaving Vegas.”

  I’d smiled and set off for the airport. And all that fussing was why, as much as it would have felt good to talk to him now as I fought my worry about flying in this tiny plane, I only thought about him and didn’t phone him then. I did, however, call Dante and invite him to join us for dinner. He agreed, and said he would bring Kendra, too.

  I admit it. I gripped my armrests as the plane lifted into the air. Maybe I even closed my eyes as I felt gravity letting go of us.

  But I opened them again to watch the ground receding as my host pilots talked to each other in a tone that sounded businesslike but not at all disturbed. If they were happy, then so was I.

  I stared down at the San Fernando Valley below as we circled, then headed east. The plane was noisier inside than the commercial aircraft I’d flown in before, but not intolerably so.

  I thought about where else I could be going in this plane. To Phoenix, where my parents, and my brother Alex and his family, lived? The Browns. That was my maiden name, but I had taken back my beloved first husband Kerry Vancouver’s name after I’d divorced the jerk, Charles Earles.

  Maybe I should go see my daughter, Tracy. Kevin didn’t require a plane ride, since he attended Claremont McKenna College in Claremont, California, which wasn’t far from L.A. But Tracy went to Stanford University in the Bay Area.

  Letting my thoughts wander like that helped to calm my nerves, at least a little.

  Since the Faylers continued to be occupied with their piloting duties, I watched the ground a little longer, then decided to be nosy and peer into a box of Bling or two.

  The first one had very similar contents to the couple I’d been able to take back to HotRescues. We’d already sold collars along with the adoptions of three more of the remaining teacup pups. We still had three little dogs left, but I’d no doubt that they, and the ones we were picking up in Las Vegas today, would find new homes very quickly.

  The Bling collars wouldn’t hurt that process.

  That box had been on top of one on the other passenger seat. I carefully moved it and looked at the box below it, which had been sealed with red tape.

  I’ve already admitted to being nosy. Plus, if some of the boxes were open, there was no reason the others shouldn’t be.

  Even so, I glanced up front to make sure my hosts weren’t paying attention to what I was doing. Then I took a key from my purse and split the tape.

  When I opened that box, I was surprised to see that it contained some of the same designs I’d been permitted to bring to HotRescues for sale, all nicely packaged and labeled like the ones I had, but also some of those that Chris Mandrea had said were just experimental so far and weren’t available yet, with tiaras and dog noses. They were packaged similarly but were also contained in larger plastic bags.

  Of course, Tom Fayler was the head of the HotPets Bling subsidiary. It wasn’t surprising that he’d want to show off all the designs, even if they weren’t for sale yet, to the managers he wanted to impress and inspire to sell lots of Bling in their stores.

  I dug through the boxes a little more. Then I settled back in my seat to enjoy the ride.

  Trying not to think about how small this plane was, and how high, and . . .

  I felt a lot better when Naya turned in her seat, and asked, “How are you doing, Lauren?”

  “Fine. How long have you actually been flying?”

  She and I got into a discussion about her lifelong interest in soaring through the air. She had even skydived a few times.

  “Have you?” she asked.

  My first instinct was to shout, “No way.” Instead, I responded, “Not yet. But maybe I’ll put that on my bucket list. Flying in a small plane like this has already allowed me to cross something off that list.” As I’ve said ad infinitum, I’m willing to lie if it makes sense to do so. Usually, I do it to protect animals.

  This time, I wanted to protect my reputation for coolness.

  Tom joined into the conversation, too. I wound up asking how the little dogs had behaved while they were in the air. I had to continually raise my voice to be heard as we flew, and I also leaned forward as far as I could without loosening the seat belt.

  “Noisy at times.” Tom also spoke loudly, as did Naya. “We held a couple on our laps, but I’m sure the rest were even more scared. Also, we didn’t have anything to relieve the air pressure in their ears if they were uncomfortable. That was one thing Teresa helped with. She pulled a few out of their crates when they seemed to need attention and held them, one at a time. Talked to them. I really think she liked dogs—although she didn’t let up much on her gibes at us without giving us any real reason for them.”

  I remembered Matt’s cautioning me to be careful if I got into amateur sleuthing about Teresa’s murder. But I was being careful, not accusatory, and I couldn’t ignore an opportunity to learn more, especially from the people I was hoping to prove were innocent—assuming they were.

  “You said before that she kept alluding to something she claimed you were involved in that she knew about, right?”

  “Yes,” Naya agreed, “but I don’t understand why she didn’t explain.”

  I didn’t, either. “Did she say why she kept pressing you about it?”

  “Not in specifics,” Naya responded, “but I kept getting the impression she thought we’d be so concerned about whatever it was that we’d offer to pay her to keep it quiet.”

  So the woman might have been attempting to blackmail them for . . . what? And depending on what it was, that could have provided a motive for them to murder her.

  “Have you tried to figure out what she meant?” I asked. “Something about the little dogs, maybe?” Although I couldn’t come up with even an idea of what about them might have enough value for the Faylers to pay her to shut up about it.

  “We’ve talked about it so much . . .” Naya sighed. “With the police asking us questions over and over, you’d think we’d come up with something, but we haven’t.”

  This wasn’t getting us anywhere . . . except toward Las Vegas. The next time I looked down, we were flying over a desert.

  And much sooner than I expected, we started ou
r descent into McCarran International Airport.

  Chapter 23

  The landing was quick and gentle, just the way I’d hoped. We were here! I couldn’t wait to jump out of the plane and see the next batch of little dogs for whom I would find great new homes.

  Had they arrived yet? I assumed so, but I asked Tom if he knew.

  “They’re here,” he said. “I asked the traffic controllers if the other plane acting on behalf of Airborne Adoptions had landed, and they said yes. Naya and I will meet with the HotPets store managers here first, though, before we bring the dogs on board. You can go meet the other pilots right away, if you’d like, and help them with the pups.” He gestured toward another small plane on the tarmac.

  “Will do,” I assured him.

  Because of the way the plane was configured, it was easier for me to get out first, followed by the two pilots. I offered to carry a box of collars down the steps, but Tom said they’d had help last time and probably would today. The local managers had gotten some baggage handlers to remove the boxes.

  He was right, since as soon as the three of us were on the ground, a couple of guys in airport uniforms came over and talked briefly with Tom, then went up the steps.

  Before they came back down again, Tom and Naya were met by three people to whom they introduced me—all associated with local HotPets stores.

  “So glad to see you both again, Tom and Naya,” said the only woman among them, Wanda, who wore a long sweater despite the day being Las Vegas–desert hot. “Are we getting closer to being able to sell the HotPets Bling collars here yet? I’ve given a few away as promotions and everyone wants more—especially when I show them the ads you’ve done in L.A.” She smiled hopefully, her brown eyes wide behind thin, black-rimmed glasses.

  “Me, too,” said Bud, who looked awfully young to be a store manager. But I’d no doubt that Dante had checked him out scrupulously.

  “That’s what they’re here for, guys,” said Jose, with a broad grin extending the hint of beard on his round face. “Right?” He looked at Tom and Naya.