Dogs Don't Lie

by Lisa Shay

  “Hi, Gracie. Nice to meet you.” Ben turned his focus on me. “Can we talk?”

  “Um, sure.” I glanced at Gracie. “Be right back.”

  Taking my hand, not my arm, Ben led me to the end of the short hall. “What happened? Where did you go this morning? Who did you talk to?”

  “Well, someone broke into my house and, while I was here, stabbed my cupcakes. I visited R and A Land Development, the bakery, and then lunch with my mom. As for who I’ve talked with, lots of people.” I tried to control the frown I knew formed on my face. No luck.

  He took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. When the call came in I … I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks. Do you think this has something to do with Mr. Whedon’s disappearance?” Frowning, I continued, “I mean, my name was in the paper and all over the news after the body was found.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?” His focus shifted to the entry. He gestured me inside the office. Closing the door behind me, he sat me on the bed while he pulled the desk chair over. “What happened at R and A?”

  “Nothing, really.” I shrugged. “The office manager, the only one there, doesn’t seem to know much about the business.” I held up a finger. “Wait.” I still had my pack over my shoulder, so I pulled out the picture. Holding it so Ben could see, I pointed to the older balding man. “This is Mr. Smith, one of the owners.” I moved my finger to the bearded younger man. “This is Mr. Johnson, another owner—”

  “The man Ariel showed you being dragged through the backyard at the Whedons’.”

  “Yes. But he’s not dead. And Mr. Smith hasn’t been to the office since around the same time Mr. Whedon disappeared.”

  “May I?” Ben took the photo and studied the two men. “Can I keep this?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  He slipped it in an inside pocket of his jacket. “I don’t think your visit there had anything to do with this. Too quick. Probably just kids.”

  “Ben, I left my contact information with R and A’s office manager.”

  “What kind?”

  “A business card with my name and work phone number.”

  Letting out a long breath, he wiped at his forehead. “Still, this was probably unrelated. But can you stay with your parents or maybe a friend for a couple days until I check this out?”

  “You think that’s necessary?”

  “Better to be safe.”

  “Sure. I can stay with Gracie.”

  He stood up and returned the chair. “Come on. Let’s get you packed. And can you do a quick check? See if anything is missing or disturbed? Oh, and do you have a spare key? I’ll make sure the doors get locked. You should contact someone right away to repair the glass. You might think about having a lock put on the back gate, too.” He smiled, his green eyes sparkling. “By the way,” he said as he gestured toward me, “nice look. I mean, you look nice.” He waved his hand. “That is, green is a good color for you.”

  “Ah. The dress.” Once again, heat flowed up my neck and into my cheeks. “Thanks.”

  Sam burst into Gracie’s, throwing her bag on the counter. “Tell me everything.”

  Frowning, she plopped on a stool next to me and took the glass of tea Gracie offered.

  “Someone got into my house through the patio—broke a glass panel out of the French doors. They think it was kids.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems unlikely. Would kids stay in the house after I got there? Whoever it was, they were so quiet—and sneaky. You’d think they’d make noise or something.

  “How do you know they were in the house with you?”

  I told her the fate of the cupcakes.

  “Wow.” Sam shivered.

  Gracie set a plate of veggies and dip in front of us and then sat next to Sam. “I got to meet Ben,” she sang.

  “Really? What’s he like?” Sam grabbed a piece of celery and nibbled at the end.

  “He’s cute. Nice eyes. Kinda serious, though.”

  “Gracie, he was at a crime scene. He is a cop, you know.” I picked up a baby carrot and dipped it in the honey mustard.

  “So who do you think broke in?” Gracie leaned forward, staring at me around Sam.

  Sam stopped chewing and watched me.

  “I’m not sure how much I should tell you.” I shrugged. “You already know about the body and how Stanley helped.” I didn’t say anything about the bloody shirt, the gun, or the men in the picture. I did mention Ariel and Ella. I added the little I’d found out about R and A and how I left my card there when I went snooping.

  “Ohhhh. Probably shouldn’t have done that.” Gracie jumped up and checked the oven. She set out plates, silverware, and napkins.

  “I get that now. Guess I’m no Nancy Drew.”

  Swallowing, Sam shook her head. “Now, wait a minute. Let’s figure this out. What do you know about the woman in the office at R and A?”

  “Not much.” I frowned. “I didn’t even get her name.”

  Oven mitt in hand, Gracie turned to face us. “She didn’t introduce herself? Her name wasn’t on the desk, like on a small plaque?”

  “No. Neither. She was just this nice older woman—kinda nondescript.” I cleared my throat. “Didn’t seem overly intelligent. But the job seemed like it’d be pretty boring. I think she had a lot of time to read or play solitaire on the computer.”

  “Hmmm.” Gracie pressed a button on the oven. “I think we should go back Monday. I’m sure the office is closed Saturday, so tomorrow’s out. What’s your schedule, Kallie?”

  “On duty and on call for a seventy-two starting Monday. I could go Thursday.”

  Sam shook her head. “No. We need to do this before then. I can go with you, Gracie. Besides, it might be better if we go without Kallie. You know—new faces. You returning so soon could cause suspicion.”

  “I don’t know, guys. I went there and a few hours later, my house gets broken into.”

  The timer on the oven beeped.

  “I’m with Ben. I don’t think it had anything to do with this. Besides, we won’t use our real names.” Gracie pulled a bubbling, cheesy lasagna casserole from the oven.

  “Maybe we could wear disguises.” Sam slid a towel over for Gracie to set the hot dish on. “I’ve got some different colored wigs.”

  They were getting way too involved in this risky adventure.

  My stomach growled. Between the large lunch with Mom and all the excitement of the break-in, I didn’t think I’d be hungry. But with the tomatoey, spicy aroma of the baking lasagna and buttery, garlicky French bread filling the kitchen, and seeing the finished product, I relented to pure comfort food.

  We ended with chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce, and mini chocolate chips. A carb coma was inevitable.

  Set up in Gracie’s guest room, I fell asleep reading one of my favorite books: Seize the Night by Dean Koontz. I’d read it at least a dozen times, but like comfort food, it was comfort reading.

  Chapter 9

  I moved back into my condo Sunday night. I didn’t hear from Ben over the weekend. But I did hear from Jeffrey about coffee, and we set a date for Thursday morning. I didn’t feel as excited as I thought I would. My mind kept replaying reasons why Ben wouldn’t contact me. A girlfriend? A wife? Kids?

  Jumping out of my truck in the parking lot at six forty-five—that would be a.m.—I had plenty of time before shift change at seven. No other cars in the lot meant no injured or sick animals waited. Good.

  Eric greeted me with a sleepy hello when I pushed through the front doors.

  “Busy days off?” I chuckled at his mussed hair and heavy lids.

  “Yeah. I helped my sister move to the coast. Nice ocean time, but I didn’t get back until late last night.” He yawned while holding up a large
mug of steaming coffee. “The magic potion is kicking in as we speak. Just made a fresh pot.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, wait. You have a message.” Eric waved a pink slip over the counter.

  “Thanks.” I took the note without looking at it and headed to the break room. Coffee first. After stowing my bag in my locker, and pulling on clean scrubs over my clothes, I poured a cup, and added brown sugar and cream—real cream. Sipping the hot, sweet liquid, I headed to the small office three of us shared. At least I had my own desk. I read the note and frowned.

  We need to talk. Marie.

  The call had come in late Friday afternoon, but the box not urgent was checked.

  “Who’s Marie?” I turned the slip over. No phone number. No last name. Nothing. I punched a button on the desk phone. “Hey, Eric. Who is Marie? And what’s her number?”

  “Debbie talked to her. I guess she figured you’d know who she was and how to contact her.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I set the note under a flap on the desk blotter. “I guess if it’s important, she’ll call back.”

  Shift change done, my morning so far consisted of a dog that needed stiches after a one-sided tussle with a raccoon, two heifers scheduled for preg checking, and a sheep with pink eye.

  Eric called me on the com line. “You have a visitor.”

  My first thought was Marie. I headed up front, my stomach hosting a minor butterfly race.

  Ben stood at the front counter. He smiled and waved.

  The butterflies vanished—well, kinda. Actually, they just slipped into a happy dance. “Hey, what’s up?” I didn’t even try to control the grin spreading over my face.

  The waiting area had three patients—a dog with a foxtail in his ear and two cats that needed stiches removed. There was nothing life threatening.

  Looking at a smiling Eric, Ben asked, “Is there somewhere we could talk? It’ll just take a minute.”

  “Sure. Follow me.” I went into an exam room and called Eric. “Could you ask Brin to bring the dog with the foxtail into exam one please? Thanks, Eric.”

  “I can stay in here?” Ben’s eyes widened. “While you, uh, do what you do?”

  “It’s usually a simple procedure. No blood. Nothing icky.”

  “Icky?” He laughed. “Is that a medical term?”

  “Hang out with me a couple days, and you’ll know icky.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.”

  Brin walked the Australian shepherd in, his head tipped to one side. “This is Echo, Dr. Collins. Want me to stay and help?”

  “No. I got this, Brin. Thanks. If you want to take care of suture removal, there are two cats in the waiting room.” I squatted down and scratched Echo’s chest.

  “Right away, Dr. Collins.” Turning, she smiled at Ben. “Let me know if you need me.” She closed the door behind her.

  Chuckling, I glanced at Ben, whose cheeks were flushed. “Well, Echo, let’s see what we can do about that nasty ole foxtail.” I picked him up and set him on the table. “Can you lie down for me?”

  Echo did as he was asked.

  “Wow,” Ben exclaimed. “Did you, you know, use your communication thing with him?”

  “No. He’s one of those breeds that are just really smart.” I took the otoscope from the wall mount, attached a green tip, and picked up a long pair of forceps with an angled end. Taking in a deep breath, I pictured Echo holding still and then me lifting his ear flap, easing the scope into the canal, and using the forceps to remove the foxtail from his ear. “It’s not going to be pleasant, sweetie. But when it’s all over, you will feel so much better.”

  Echo watched me and then laid his head down on his paws.

  Snapping on the light on the scope, I lifted Echo’s ear and inserted the cone.

  Echo whined but didn’t move.

  “It’s okay, baby. I see it. Now hold really still, and I’ll get that nasty thing.”

  I reached through the tip of the cone with the forceps, gripped the foxtail, and pulled it out.

  After taking a quick look to make sure I got all of it, I let go of Echo’s ear. “All done.”

  Echo pushed to a sitting position, his head no longer tipped to one side.

  From a cabinet behind me, I took out a tube of ointment. “Now I’m just going to put some medicine in your ear. It may tickle, but it won’t hurt.” After a squeeze, I rubbed the base of Echo’s ear.

  He leaned into my hand and grinned.

  “He’s smiling.” Ben stared at me.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “That was amazing.”

  I picked up Echo and put him on the floor. Pressing the com, I said, “Echo’s ready to go home. He needs ear ointment twice a day for a week.”

  “Got it all ready, Doc,” Eric answered.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. I went to R and A this morning. It was empty. No office manager, no desks, no files—nothing.” Ben pulled a note pad from his pocket and flipped it open about halfway. “Is this the address you went to?”

  Leaning toward him, I read what he’d written and nodded. “Yes.”

  “There was nothing there. Are you sure that’s it?”

  A tap sounded at the door.

  Brin poked her head in, locating Ben. “I hear Echo is ready.”

  “He can go, Brin. Thanks.”

  Brin picked up the leash and walked Echo out, but not before bestowing one last smile on Ben.

  “You have an admirer.”

  “Yeah.” Ben turned those brilliant green eyes on me. “She’s not really my type.”

  Clearing my throat, I tapped his pad. “That’s where I was—second floor, first door on the left. I can show you if you want to make sure.”

  “No. Sounds like the place. Thanks, Kallie. Time for me to go through the case files.”

  “Sorry.” I frowned. “Wait a minute.” I opened the door, hurried to my little office, and retrieved the note from my desk.

  Ben followed, taking the slip when I handed it to him.

  “I don’t know a Marie.” I bit at my lip. “Do you think—”

  “Whoa, Sherlock. There’s no reason to assume this is related in any way.”

  “I prefer ‘Nancy,’ like Nancy Drew. Or better yet, Kinsey Millhone.”

  He smiled. “I’ll call you later. In the meantime, no more Kinsey-type adventures.”

  “Fine.”

  “Promise?”

  Sighing, I nodded and held up my right hand. “I promise.” I didn’t make any promises for Gracie and Sam, though.

  He started to walk away and then turned back. “Oh, here’s your house key.” After handing it to me, he pivoted and walked toward the door but then spun around again. “Um, could we have coffee? You know, to talk about the case. I feel like one, or both of us, is always in a hurry, because of outside demands and our jobs. What’s your schedule like?”

  “I’m pretty much tied to this place for the next seventy-two hours.”

  “No breaks?”

  “Depends on how busy it gets.”

  “You stay here the whole time, even at night?” He gestured, looking at the sterile white halls and tiny exam rooms.

  “There’s a bedroom with a TV, table and chairs, and a shower at the end of the hall.” I shrugged. “It’s not that bad. If it gets too crazy, I can call for backup.”

  “What about eating?”

  “I have food here, or I can order delivery. The techs are great. If we need something, they’ll make a store run.”

  “Huh. Interesting.” He frowned. “Okay. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  At five thirty my phone rang. I’d just settled back, feet up, thinking about dinner, and checking ou
t Netflix. “Hello, Ben.”

  “Are you busy?”

  “No. We can talk.”

  “Can I come in?”

  My feet hit the floor. “You’re here?”

  “Is that okay? It’s not against the rules?”

  “No, it’s fine. Where are you?”

  “Walking in the door.”

  I hurried up front, still on the phone, until I saw Ben standing at the front desk, takeout from Best Burger in his hand. That grin filled my face again. “Hi.”

  “I brought dinner.”

  “Thank you. Come on back.” The aroma wafting from the bag had my stomach growling.

  Setting the bag on the table, he took out bacon cheeseburgers and sweet-potato fries, complete with honey mustard, barbeque, and ranch dipping sauce. “I didn’t get drinks. Not sure what you like.”

  “That’s okay. We have a machine here. Or water.”

  He glanced around, surveying the space. “So this is your home away from home?” He nodded. “You’re right. It’s not bad.”

  Looking at the small, cozy room, I saw it through Ben’s eyes. Pale-blue walls. Light-gray tile floor. A twin bed pushed to one side with a dark-blue comforter and my two pillows with Star Wars pillow cases. A brown IKEA-type bookcase sat against the back wall, complete with well-worn books and a flat-screen TV on top. A round maple table and two chairs—someone’s grandmother’s hand-me-downs—stood under the small window. “Yeah. It’s not bad.” I gestured toward the door. “Do you want a soda?”

  “Water’s fine.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Returning with two bottles, I sat across from him. “This is great. How did you know?”

  “Well, the first time we met, you had the barbeque sauce on your shirt, and I thought, hmmm.” He tapped his chin with one finger while gazing at the ceiling. “Had to be bacon cheeseburgers. As for the fries,” he said as he grimaced, “I guessed.”

  “Good job.”

  We both dug into the meal while it was still hot, not saying much other than small talk about the weather and other good places to eat in the valley.

  Finished, I wiped my hands with a paper napkin. “Thank you so much. I needed that.”