Asking Fur Trouble

by Ally Roberts

  “Uh, I’ll just have what he’s having,” I said.

  She left and was back less than a minute later with two frosty mugs. She set them down and left.

  He picked his up and sipped. The t-shirt he was wearing had a small logo on it for what I thought might be a surf company. He’d swapped out his khaki shorts from earlier for a pair of blue and white board shorts, and he was wearing an expensive-looking pair of leather flip flops.

  Dressed so casually, I would never have guessed he was the owner of the island’s only luxury resort. But there were little telltale signs visible if I looked close enough. The watch strapped to his wrist, a thick silver one that probably cost more than my monthly rent back in Minneapolis. The sandals he was wearing, a brand name I recognized and knew was definitely out of my price range.

  I reached for my own glass and downed a large mouthful. It was nice and hoppy, with citrus undertones, and I was ridiculously pleased that Asher liked the same kind of beer I did.

  “So, how was Duke after his walk?” I asked.

  His dog seemed like the safest topic for conversation.

  “Best he’s been in a while,” he said. “All thanks to you.”

  “I don’t know about that. All I did was walk him for an hour.”

  “True,” he admitted. He wiped at the condensation on the mug. “But he wasn’t cooped up in my office, he got to hang out with another dog, got some exercise in the morning and then again this afternoon…those are all good things. Things that make him happy.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I said. I had to admit, his praise made me a little uncomfortable. He was acting like I’d just navigated a moon landing.

  “You pick up any other clients yet?” Asher asked.

  “Clients?” I shook my head. “No.”

  “No? So I’m an exclusive?” He winked, and my heart flip-flopped.

  He chuckled. “You should advertise. Get some flyers or something out. You’ll have more clients than you know what to do with.”

  I frowned. Flyers had been on my agenda…until Poppy showed up at my door and issued her thinly veiled warning.

  “Or don’t,” he said, his eyes on me, watching my expression change.

  “Oh, no,” I said hastily. “I probably will. I…I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “Been busy?”

  “You could say that,” I muttered. I swallowed more beer.

  He leaned back in his chair, holding his mug. He studied me, his brown eyes so dark they were almost black. A smile tugged at his lips and I couldn’t help but offer my own smile to nudge his along.

  Finally, it blossomed, and I felt my response to it, all the way down to my toes. There was something about his smile that did weird things to me.

  I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek.

  What information could I possibly share with him that wouldn’t make me sound like an utter lunatic? I’d found a dead body, started my own business, had a local business owner threaten me, and was currently being sort-of investigated for a murder.

  “Does it have to do with your move?” he asked. “Just busy getting settled and stuff?”

  I seized on that and nodded my head. That would be a far easier explanation than telling him the truth.

  He cocked his head. “I don’t think we ever discussed it.”

  “Discussed what?”

  “Why you moved here.”

  It took me a minute to realize he was correct. We’d met in front of Caroline’s house, he’d asked me about the dogs I was with, and the next thing I knew he was contracting me to walk his. There hadn’t been many pleasantries exchanged, I realized, and the information I had about him had come mostly from my mother.

  “Oh,” I said, nodding again. “I actually grew up here. Just moved back this past week.”

  “Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “So an island girl, huh?”

  “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

  He chuckled. “What brought you back?”

  I grabbed my mug and took another drink. Apparently, this wasn’t a safer area for conversation.

  But he sat patiently, his brown eyes warm and friendly, quietly sipping his own beer as he waited for my response.

  “I just went through a divorce,” I said quietly. “Decided to come home and lick my wounds.”

  His eyes clouded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” I said. My beer was almost gone and I went ahead and drained the glass. “It was mutual, and really the best thing for the both of us. And we did it at the right time. No property to divide, no kids.”

  “Just the dog.”

  I laughed. “Yes, just the dog. And I got her so I think I came out alright.”

  “Definitely. I don’t know what I would do without Duke.”

  “You’ve had him a while?”

  “Five years,” Asher said. “He goes everywhere with me. Well, except when he’s out walking with you.”

  “I feel honored.”

  “It is a big honor.”

  He winked and I laughed again. I was discovering that Asher was easy to sit with and easy to talk to. It felt like talking to a friend, despite the fact that I’d just met him a few days ago and that he was technically my employer. And despite the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous and made me go a little weak in the knees every time he smiled at me.

  “I guess you’ve probably been focused on getting settled then, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. My grandmother’s house was empty so I’m staying there for the time being.”

  “What’s the time being?” Worry filtered into his expression. “Does that mean you’re not staying long?”

  “No, it just means that my stay in her house will probably be temporary,” I said. “She died last year and I know my dad would like to get it on the market. It’s in a prime spot here on the island.”

  “Where is it?” I told him and he whistled. “I know that house. Tan, right? With the red front door and the big porch?”

  I was sort of surprised he knew it. “That’s the one.”

  “I can see how that might bring a good chunk of change,” he agreed.

  It was true. I was on Mom’s side with not wanting to sell—she and I shared a sense of nostalgia when it came to Grandma and her home—but my dad harbored no such feelings. I didn’t know if it was because he was always looking for ways to make a quick buck, since none of the jobs he’d had over the years had ever panned out, or because he truly just couldn’t be bothered with such sentimentality.

  Either way, he wanted to sell and Mom wanted to hold on to it.

  “But you don’t have plans to leave any time soon, right?” Asher asked.

  I wondered if he was asking because he didn’t want to lose his new dog walker or if there was some other reason.

  “No.” And then, for no good or smart reason, I blurted out, “I can’t, anyway.”

  As soon as I said it, I covered my hand with my mouth.

  What was I thinking?

  Asher frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t?” And then his eyes widened. “Does this have to do with Caroline Ford? When Ritter asked you to be available in case they had more questions?”

  “He didn’t ask me to be available. He instructed me not to leave town.”

  Asher waved a hand. “He was just being dramatic. He’s one of those guys who takes himself a little too seriously. Have you had a chance to talk to him again?”

  I nodded. “Yep. And he reiterated it. Don’t leave town.”

  He shook his head. “What, does he think you’re a suspect or something?” His tone told me how ludicrous he thought that suggestion was.

  “Yes. Because they’re saying it was foul play.”

  He gaped at me. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded.

  He leaned forward and set his mug on the table. “Why would he think that? You don’t even know Carolin
e. You were just returning her dog.”

  Any reservation I’d had about bringing the subject up suddenly disappeared. Because it seemed as though Asher and I were on the same page. In fact, he sounded as indignant about the whole thing as I felt.

  “I don’t really know,” I said. It was pretty much the truth. I didn’t know why the chief had latched on to me as a suspect. I could mention Poppy to Asher, I guess, but I didn’t have anything concrete to go on that would suggest she was the one responsible for her husband’s interest in me as a suspect. Besides, naming her felt like I would be guilty of the same thing she might be doing: jumping to conclusions and creating a smear campaign.

  If that’s what was going on.

  Asher traced his finger on the rim of his mug. “Why aren’t they looking at Daniel?”

  “Daniel?” I asked. “Her husband?”

  “Everyone knew he was opposed to the divorce,” he said. His brow furrowed. “He was very vocal about it. I remember going to a Chamber of Commerce meeting and he was talking to some folks. Someone must have asked about the divorce because he told them it wasn’t happening. Not over his dead body. Those were his exact words.”

  I stared at him. “He said that?”

  “Yes. Clear as day.”

  I pondered this for a minute, trying to put it into context with the man I’d spoken to earlier in the day.

  The one who’d urged me to look at Ginny Potter as a potential suspect.

  A sense of unease began to build inside me.

  I thought about Daniel Ford, returning to the idea of him being a possible suspect.

  Could he have been so upset over the impending divorce that he’d killed his wife? People often committed crimes of passion, so it wouldn’t be out of the question. Maybe the dead body he’d been referring to during that meeting where Asher overheard him had somehow morphed into Caroline’s.

  Still…he seemed so normal. So quiet. He reminded me of a timid mouse, not a man who would succumb to a fit of rage.

  But what did I know? I’d never been involved in a murder case before.

  And, based on how the chief of police was handling things, I was right in the thick of it.

  I was quiet for a minute, still lost in thought.

  Who could I talk to that would know how Daniel was really feeling about the divorce? Someone who saw him frequently, but who might have overheard conversations or who had access to Caroline, too.

  Ginny was a definite possibility.

  But my access to her was limited. The only way she knew me was as the strange woman who’d started talking to her while she was unloading groceries. And we hadn’t even talked that much. I didn’t know how I would go about striking up a conversation that could veer off into gathering intimate details about her former partner’s marriage and impending divorce.

  Not to mention, I was still supposed to be considering her a suspect, too.

  No, Ginny wasn’t an option.

  I smiled.

  But Amber was.

  The housekeeper.

  SIXTEEN

  Amber was still on my mind the next morning when I headed out to take Trixie for a walk. It was the weekend, so I wasn’t responsible for getting Duke a walk, but I knew my pup still needed to get out. I did, too.

  Caroline’s housekeeper and I had formed a bit of a rapport, I thought. I’d sat at the kitchen table with her, had a conversation. I felt like we’d even bonded a little over Arrow.

  I still needed to find out where she lived, and I still needed to figure out a way to open up a dialogue about Daniel and Caroline’s relationship, but I at least felt like I had something to work with where she was concerned.

  I’d looked her up online and saw that she didn’t actually live on the island but over in Davenport, the city on the other side of the bridge that connected Sweetwater to the rest of the state. Her number was listed, too, so I thought calling her first might be a good idea. Maybe I could ask how Arrow was doing, and see about coming over for a quick visit. That would at least get me in the door.

  I walked with a little more confidence and Trixie must have noticed the spring in my step because she perked up, too.

  We crossed the street, heading in the general direction of the beach. The sky was overcast but the temperature was comfortable, and I had a feeling the clouds would probably break before midday. I wondered how many tourists were already visiting the island this early in May. There were bound to be some, especially retirees and people with young kids who didn’t have to worry about planning vacation around school schedules.

  I had the extra-long leash with me again, the one I wanted to use to introduce Trixie to the ocean and the one I had when we came across Arrow. I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t see another stray dog this time around. I didn’t need any more drama in my life. Or dead bodies.

  But we didn’t make it to the beach.

  Because as we walked, getting closer and closer to Caroline Ford’s house, I noticed a car parked in the driveway.

  My pulse ticked up a notch.

  It wasn’t Daniel. I knew what his car looked like.

  I slowed our pace as we approached the house. Trixie was not happy; she’d liked the fact that we were clipping along at such a good pace.

  “Hang on,” I told her.

  I shielded my eyes and tried to look into the house, to see if I could figure out who was inside. But even with the cloud cover blocking the sun, I couldn’t make out anything.

  Luckily, the person who was inside chose that moment to open the door and a ball of fur shot outside and into the yard.

  Arrow.

  I smiled.

  If Arrow was at the house, that meant Amber was, too.

  I tugged on Trixie’s leash and she leaped in front of me, her senses on high alert as soon as she caught sight of Arrow.

  Arrow saw us and instead of heading back inside after relieving himself, he barreled toward us.

  “Hey,” a voice called from inside the house. The door opened wider and Amber appeared, her hands on her hips. She immediately noticed me. “Oh, hey there.”

  Trixie and Arrow were sniffing and jumping at each other as I made my way up the sidewalk.

  “Hi,” I said. “I was out walking and saw Arrow.” I smiled. “I’ve been wondering how you guys have been doing.”

  Amber returned the smile. “Oh, we’re fine. He’s adjusted great to being at my house. We actually just came back to grab some of his toys. You know, now that the crime scene has been cleared.”

  I glanced at the house. “Has it?”

  She nodded. “I told Chief Ritter to let me know when I could come back over. Arrow has this stuffed toy he just loves and I wanted to be able to grab it for him.”

  I was itching to know more about the house. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “Did they end up finding anything?”

  Amber shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

  My shoulders sagged. I wanted there to be some evidence discovered that would absolutely absolve me of any blame.

  “The only thing I heard was there is now an official cause of death,” she said.

  My gaze flew back to her. “Oh? What was it?”

  She winced. “Blunt force trauma to the head.”

  I swallowed. “Oh.” I waited a second and then asked, “Do they think it was intentional? Blunt force trauma can occur if someone falls, too.”

  Amber gave me a weird look, and I realized it probably wasn’t the best thing to be voicing out loud. Taken a certain way, it might sound like I was trying to make excuses for her injuries…excuses that didn’t point to murder.

  I changed the subject. “Do they have any idea what exactly might have happened? Or who else might have been involved?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Well, word on the street is that it might be you.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I didn’t even know her.” It felt like my standard response, and I was quickly beginning to realize that it might not carry mu
ch weight.

  “Oh, I know,” Amber said with a small smile. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. I know you weren’t responsible.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You do?”

  She nodded. “Of course. You just moved here. And I knew Caroline. She never once mentioned your name.”

  There was some relief in hearing Amber say this. Not just because it sounded as though she was on my side, but because she might also be willing to tell that to people who needed to hear it. Like Chief Ritter and Detective Simcoe.

  “I’m glad you recognize that,” I said quietly. “I just wish Chief Ritter did, too.”

  Amber made a face. “That man is barking up the wrong tree if he thinks you had anything to do with this,” she declared. “I told him that but who knows if he’ll listen. Especially with Poppy gabbing in his ear.”

  Poppy. A knot formed in my stomach. How responsible was that woman for casting suspicion on me? I made a mental note to look into that, and sooner rather than later.

  But now wasn’t the time, especially since Amber was closing the front door. I realized her purse was hitched over her shoulder and her keys were in her hands. A sad-looking stuffed raccoon peeked out of her purse, Arrow’s much-loved stuffie.

  She was getting ready to leave.

  And I still hadn’t said a word about Daniel.

  I tried to think of a way to bring him up.

  “I saw Daniel yesterday,” I said.

  She looked nonplussed. “Oh?”

  “He seems pretty shaken up by Caroline’s death. As he probably should be,” I added quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how long they were married or anything, but I assume it would be difficult to learn that she died, despite the whole divorce thing.”

  Amber just pursed her lips and nodded.

  I turned my attention to Trixie, who had settled down and was now just sitting next to Arrow, panting and waiting patiently. “What was their relationship like?” I asked.

  “Who?” Amber said. “Caroline and Daniel’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  She frowned. “Not good.”

  “Even before the separation and divorce?”

  “The divorce wasn’t final yet,” she reminded me. “Technically they’re still married.”