Hounding the Pavement

by MCCOY, JUDI

  “Really? So you’re saying you would have taken time from your busy schedule to see him?”

  “Maybe . . . yeah.”

  “Then he must have meant more to you than I ever did.”

  He refused to be taunted into an argument over his ex-wife’s standard excuse for her many affairs. “Where’s the wake?” he asked instead. “And the funeral?”

  “You mean you’ll make the viewing? You’re not just being nice to get rid of me?”

  Her tone was skeptical, almost biting, and exactly what he’d come to expect since confronting her about the men she’d slept with during their five-year marriage. Sam did want to get rid of her, but he also had an obligation to her mother. “How’s Patricia holding up?”

  “Okay, all things considered.” She gave the name of the funeral parlor and the hours. “He’s being buried the next morning. I’m sure she’d appreciate your being there.”

  “You have my word I’ll be at the viewing,” he promised, but he ignored the funeral crack. His schedule was packed, but he owed Frank and Patricia Jeffers for taking his side in the divorce. “It’s late. I have to go.”

  “Of course you do.” Her smirk slithered across the wire. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  He didn’t bother with a polite good-bye. Carolanne would appreciate his hang-up, just to prove she was right about dumping him. The fact that she knew exactly what he did for a living when they’d tied the knot held no weight, nor had her encouragement when he’d passed his test for detective. She’d been aware of the extra hours he had to work, but it had taken him a while to figure out why she didn’t care. It gave her more time to fuck their downstairs neighbor and God knew how many other men she met at her job or her health club.

  His mother would probably want to know about Frank’s death, as well. Though she had nothing good to say about her ex-daughter-in-law, she’d always thought Carolanne’s parents were the salt of the earth. Maybe he’d call his mom and offer to take her out before the viewing. That way, he could make up for missing their weekly dinners and fulfill his obligation to Patricia at the same time.

  Inside his apartment, he hung up his coat, loosened his tie, and dialed his mother’s number.

  “Sammy, it’s you.”

  His lips twitched. “You’re finally getting used to the new phone, I see.”

  “I still have to stop and remember to look at that tiny screen and figure out the numbers, but I’ll admit it does come in handy. Just today, I had three calls from telemarketers or people I didn’t want to talk to. In fact, I’m thinking of getting a cell phone, like you and your sisters have.”

  His mother and a cell phone? The idea simply didn’t compute. “You’re kidding?”

  “I’m serious. Then I can assign a different ring tone to each of my children. I’m thinking of—”

  “Uh, Ma, I didn’t call to shoot the breeze.”

  “I hope you phoned to tell me you miss me, and you’re coming to dinner next week.”

  “I’m not sure about next week, but I have news about someone, and I think you’ll want to hear it.”

  “News? Is it Tommy? One of your sisters?” His mother’s voice rose as she spoke. “Oh, wait. Sherry’s upstairs studying in her room. Is it Susan—”

  “Calm down, Ma. It’s not one of the girls or anyone in our immediate family.”

  She exhaled a breath, and he imagined her making the sign of the cross. “Don’t frighten me like that again, young man.”

  “Sorry. I just got off the phone with Carolanne.”

  He waited through the long silence.

  “What did she want?”

  “To tell me that Frank passed away this morning.”

  “Oh, Lord, how terrible. What was it? A heart attack? A stroke? Cancer? He used to be a smoker, you know.”

  “I remember, but Carolanne didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. The obit will probably run in tomorrow’s paper.” His mother had been reading the death notices every day since his dad passed away. “I didn’t want it to come as a shock.”

  “I appreciate you telling me.” There was another pause before she asked, “Are you going to the viewing?”

  “I’m planning on it. I thought maybe you’d come with me. I’ll buy you dinner first.”

  “Buy me dinner? When you could eat here?”

  “I know I can eat there, but I want to take my favorite girl out. Just the two of us.”

  She laughed before she said, “That’s sweet, Sammy. I’ll be happy to be your date, even if it is to a funeral.”

  “Pick you up around five? We’ll go to Provenzano’s. How’s that sound?”

  “Fine. It’ll give me a chance to wear my new hat. I bought it yesterday, but I had no idea why. I guess I must be psychic or something.”

  Or something, is right. “Swell, Ma. I’ll see you tomorrow at five.”

  The next morning, Ellie woke with a pounding headache. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, in the throes of an erotic dream that returned to haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Though the face of her tormentor had been shrouded in smoke, she suspected Sam Ryder was the cause, but it could have been good old Dr. Dave, or some hunk she’d seen on the street who made her thighs ache and her blood run hot. One thing was certain: Her reaction to the invasive sexual fantasy had proven her libido wasn’t dead—just . . . dormant?

  After swallowing two ibuprofen with her breakfast orange juice, she dressed for the evening, in case there wasn’t time to return to her apartment when she finished her last walk. Taking a final glance in the mirror, she was certain Georgette would approve of her tailored black slacks and matching jacket. She even wore the turquoise sweater she’d received from Vivian this past Christmas, the one that matched her eyes and showed off her reddish-gold hair and other attributes to full advantage.

  When she arrived at Viv’s condo to take Mr. T on his morning constitutional, she was relieved to find her best human friend gone for the day. Last night’s grueling inquisition had drained her dry. She didn’t have the patience to go another round with Vivian, especially when she had to be at the top of her game to avoid arguing with her mother.

  On the way to her first stop, she and Rudy dropped by the nearest Joe to Go and ordered a regular coffee. Because walking Bruiser wasn’t a done deal, it seemed prudent to bring Natter a hot beverage on the off chance it would persuade him to recommend her to a few more residents in his building.

  “Thanks,” said the burly doorman when she handed him his drink. “By the way, new tenants are moving in over the weekend. Two women, and they each have one of them small naked-lookin’ dogs with big ears and buggy eyes.”

  “Chihuahuas?” asked Ellie.

  “Them’s the ones. I handed the ladies your card, and they promised to give you a call.”

  “I appreciate it.” Ellie gave herself a mental high-five for bringing him coffee. “What’s their apartment number?”

  “Penthouse suite. My guess is Patti and Janice are big tippers, so there ought to be some hefty bonus money come Christmas, if you play your cards right.” His expression turned thoughtful. “One’s a supermodel, and the other’s supposed to be a singer at some fancy supper club, but I can’t remember which is which. Either way, they have to be well off to sublet the top floor of the building.”

  Ellie penned a welcome-to-the-neighborhood note, added another of her business cards, and passed the letter to Natter. “Could you slip this in their mailbox for me? I’ll stop over soon for a face-to-face meeting and see what they have to say.” She pressed the elevator CALL button. “And thanks again. I really appreciate it.”

  The doorman saluted her with his coffee, and she and Rudy rode to Bruiser’s apartment. Inside the Bests’ foyer, she crossed her fingers and called for the Pomeranian.

  “He’s coming,” yipped Rudy. “And I don’t smell that Bibi person, so the coast is clear.”

  Before Ellie could comment, Bruiser trotted out from the back of the condo and sat at h
er feet. “Good morning,” she said, hoping for a response.

  The ball of fluff grinned, but said nothing.

  “How are you today?” she asked, thinking the Pom might need a nudge in the verbal-exchange department.

  When he continued to stare, she grabbed his leash from a key board on the wall, squatted, and clipped him to the lead. “I think you and I have something in common,” she teased, looking for a reaction. “We have the same color hair.”

  The Pom licked her fingers, but didn’t utter a sound.

  “Ever hear that saying ‘The lights are on but nobody’s home’?” Rudy asked with a snort.

  “That is so impolite,” Ellie chastised. The poor little guy was probably still traumatized from his frightening encounter with Goth girl. “Okay, don’t talk to us,” she said as she made her way into the hall. “Just relax, and we’ll have you out and back in a jiffy.”

  Thirty minutes later, she stopped at a second Joe to Go, where she picked up a large tea for Randall and a caramel cappuccino for herself. She’d have to locate Joe soon and tell him how much money she spent in his shops these days. It might be good for business if he started one of those frequent-buyer cards. A lure like “Buy eleven, get the twelfth coffee free” was sure to win him a few more customers.

  “I brought your regular,” she said as she passed the tea to Randall, who was standing in the Davenport entryway. “Anything happening I should know about?”

  “Thank you.” He uncapped the cup and took a sip. “There are no police present, if that’s what you’re asking. But the professor’s niece is scheduled to arrive later today with an appraiser.” He stuck his free hand inside her jacket pocket. “Perhaps now is the time to take your . . . um . . . survey?”

  She didn’t have to check to know it was his extra key to the professor’s apartment. “I’ll see to my charges first and do the deed after I deliver them home.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” the doorman said, tipping his hat to a passing tenant, who entered the building carrying a newspaper and a bag from a local bakery. “Morning, Mr. Seltzer.”

  Mr. Seltzer, a silver-haired gentleman well past the age of retirement, nodded politely, then spotted Rudy and grinned. His brown-eyed gaze moved over and upward, taking in Ellie’s black flats and wool slacks, then lingered at her breasts. When Randall coughed, he raised his head.

  “Frederick Seltzer, at your service. I don’t believe we’ve met.” He sketched a bow. “Are you a tenant here?”

  “I’m Ellie Engleman, and no, I don’t live here,” she answered as she followed him into the elevator. How much trouble could a seventy-year-old lech be? “But I do walk a few of the building’s four-legged occupants.”

  He pressed the button for the tenth floor, which also happened to be her first stop. “Ah, I see.”

  “Do you have a dog?”

  “Not at the moment. But now that I know you’re business is walking pets, I might be coerced into getting one.”

  He winked and Rudy sneezed on her feet. “His pheromones are in good working order, Triple E, so be careful.”

  “That’s very sweet of you to say,” she answered, ignoring her pal. “Here’s my card. If you hear of someone in the neighborhood who needs a dog walker, please pass this on.”

  He read the card and deposited it in the pocket of his Burberry raincoat. “Are you the woman who attended to Professor Albright’s Buddy?”

  “I was. Did you know the professor?”

  “We met with a group in the building once a month to play bridge. He was an excellent partner and a challenging opponent. What happened to him was a shame.”

  “I assume you’ve spoken to the police.”

  “Several times. But I didn’t have word one to add to the investigation. Aside from bridge, the only thing the professor and I had in common was our water.”

  “Water?”

  “Gil delivered Liquid Ice to both our apartments, still does to mine.” The elevator stopped and he held the door to let her out first. “Are you going to Ms. Jaglinski’s unit? If I remember correctly, she has a charming white canine with excellent manners, just like your friend there.”

  Ellie gazed pointedly at Rudy. “He’s a good guy, when he remembers to behave. And picking up Sweetie Pie is always my first order of business. She gets walked twice a day.”

  “Then I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.” He turned in the opposite direction. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  An hour later, Ellie stood in front of the professor’s door, noting that the crime scene tape had been removed. After inspecting the hallway to her right and left, she inserted Randall’s key and entered the apartment foyer. Aside from a hollow feel to the air around her, she didn’t notice anything odd. Apparently a company specializing in crime scenes had already taken care of the mess she’d heard was usually created by the investigators.

  Once inside, she checked her cell phone to make sure it was on. Randall had promised to call if he saw Victoria Pernell or a police office enter the building, and she planned to be prepared. “Do you want to wait or follow me?” she asked Rudy.

  The Yorkiepoo planted his butt on the hardwood floor. “I’m staying put.”

  Dropping his leash, she threw back her shoulders, took a deep breath, and muttered, “Here goes nothing,” as she strode down the hall to the rear of the unit.

  Unsure of what to look for in the bedroom, she opened dresser drawers, checked under the bed, and gave the closets a once-over. Moving to the professor’s office, she again searched a closet and rifled through the bookcases, careful to return things to their proper place as soon as she finished. Then she quickly inspected his desk. A folder on the blotter caught her eye, and she opened it, surprised to find an invoice adorned with a familiar-sounding name on top of a pile of bills.

  Reaching into her tote bag, she pulled out the magazine Rita Millcraft had given her last night, Breeder’s Digest. Thanks to her erotic encounter with Ryder, she’d completely forgotten to check the publication for a link to Buddy. Scanning the invoice, she noted it was a bill for an ad, and the name on the letterhead was the same as that of Rita’s magazine.

  Her phone rang, and she jumped. “Hello.”

  “Ms. Pernell is on her way up with an appraiser. I suggest you leave now. Take the freight elevator down and slip out through the service entrance.”

  “Gotcha.” She stuffed the phone into her pocket, stuck the invoice in the magazine, and returned it to her bag as she raced down the hall. “We have to get moving.” She dragged Rudy out the door and locked it. The elevator signaled its arrival, and they disappeared around the corner at the same time as she heard voices. Holding her breath, she stood unmoving until the voices faded and a door slammed.

  Flooded with relief, she jammed her finger on the freight elevator’s CALL button. Moments later, the conveyance shuddered to a stop, and the door jerked open. Before she could step inside, a man backed out pulling a dolly loaded with plastic water bottles.

  “Hey, sorry,” he said when he realized he’d almost run her down. “I didn’t see you there.”

  She read the brand of water on the side of the container and guessed the tall, thin deliveryman was Gil. “My fault. I don’t usually take the back way, but I thought I’d do a bit of exploring today.”

  “Not a problem.” He grinned at Rudy. “Nice-lookin’ pooch. What kind of dog is he?”

  “A Yorkie-poodle mix,” she said, always willing to talk about her canine friend. “You like dogs?”

  “You bet.” He wiped a hand on his coveralls and offered it to her. “Name’s Gil Mitchell.”

  “I’m Ellie.” She accepted his hand, then pulled out a couple of business cards. “Would it be too much trouble if I asked a favor?”

  “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

  “If you go into an apartment that you know has a dog, would you mind leaving a card on the kitchen counter? I’m new to the job and it’s hard finding customers.”

  “
Sure.” He tucked the cards in his breast pocket and tilted the dolly. “I’d better be going. Have a nice day.”

  She led Rudy onto the elevator and waited until the door closed before speaking. “He seemed like a nice guy.”

  “Personally, I didn’t much care for him. And you know what else? Either my sniffer is on the fritz, or Buddy’s scent was all over him.”

  “Of course it was. He delivered water to the professor’s apartment. He probably patted Buddy’s head, and the odor is on his uniform.”

  “Maybe. But there’s something else going on with him. I just don’t know what.”

  “You’re being silly. He seemed perfectly normal.”

  “So says you,” Rudy chided.

  “Yes, I do. And it’s time for lunch. I have a magazine to read over, and I’ll need peace and quiet to do it.”

  “Fine by me, because I plan to take a nap. Thanks to Ryder, you kept me up all night. I need my beauty sleep, especially if I have to make nice with your mother later.”

  She ignored his crack about Ryder and concentrated on the evening to come. “I don’t expect you to do anything more than be yourself at dinner. Don’t beg, and whatever you do, sit on the floor, not the furniture.” She led them off the elevator into a hallway and followed it to a stairway and a ramp. “And no licking—anywhere. Georgette hates when you do that. So do I, by the way.”

  “Talk about taking the fun out of a social situation.”

  “That type of crass conduct isn’t right for any situation. It won’t hurt you to exercise some self-control. Oh, and be nice to Stanley.”

  “Stanley’s an okay guy, for a lawyer.”

  “He’s more than a lawyer. He’s a retired judge.”

  “Lawyer, judge, what’s the difference? Hey, you wanna hear a joke?”

  “Not another one of your dopey lawyer snipes.”

  “Jeez, you really know how to hurt a guy.”

  “Okay, go ahead and say it. But don’t get mad if I groan.”

  “Why don’t snakes bite lawyers?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “I give. Why don’t snakes bite lawyers?”