Begging for Trouble

by Judi McCoy

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Stanley began, commanding her attention. “Georgette and I would like to welcome you to our gathering. We’re here, of course, to celebrate the appointment of one of these three judges to a premier position in our nation’s judicial system.”

  His blue eyes twinkled. “Now some of you might ask why we didn’t wait to celebrate until after the official announcement, but I thought that all three men should be lauded, since it is a great honor to even be considered for such a prestigious post. Besides, the lousy weather gives us all the more reason to hold a party. Don’t you agree?”

  Suddenly Sam was at Ellie’s side. “Taking a break from dog duty?” he asked, his expression grim.

  “For a while,” she answered in a hushed tone. “What have you been up to?”

  His coffee-dark eyes inspected the room. “Me? Not much.”

  “I saw you talking to Judge Lowenstein. What was that all about?”

  Before Sam answered, the group applauded, and Ellie felt obligated to listen to Stanley’s introduction of each appointee. In the first two instances, when he announced Judge Arnold Simpson and Judge Henry Wilde, the wives took a backseat and let their husbands bask in the limelight. But when he named Norm Lowenstein, Mariette appeared center stage, right beside the judge, beaming as if she were the nominee.

  “Well, that’s interesting.”

  “Interesting how?” asked Sam.

  “What? Oh.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud. “Ah, just Mariette.”

  “Judge Lowenstein’s wife?”

  “Yes. She’s acting—Never mind. It’s not important.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “If you think so, then it is. Let me in on your thoughts.”

  “You never did say why you were talking to the judge,” she said, sidestepping the question.

  “What judge?” He surveyed the crowd. “There are only about a dozen in attendance tonight.”

  Ellie gave an eye roll. “You know exactly who I mean. One of the guests of honor. Norman Lowenstein. And that other man on the opposite side of the room. Who’s he?”

  “Funny how you’re stewing over Mrs. Lowenstein, while I have issues with her husband, isn’t it?”

  “Issues? You have issues with Judge Lowenstein?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “And you’re avoiding mine,” she said, mimicking his annoyed expression.

  Sam grabbed her elbow, led her into the library, and sat her on the sofa. “You’ve walked the Lowensteins’ dog for what, a year now?”

  “Just about. Why?”

  “What kind of people are they?”

  Ellie cocked her head, thinking. “I haven’t spoken to them very often. Mariette is hardly ever home when I pick up her Pug. Seems she’s a health nut, works out at a gym every day, does weight training, that sort of thing. And the judge is rarely there when I arrive.”

  He closed the door and sat next to her. “Have you ever seen them interact?”

  “With each other?”

  “Yes, with each other. Do they seem loving? Involved? Polite? Or are they more like roommates?”

  Ellie blinked. What the heck was Sam getting at? The one time she’d seen the Lowensteins interact was last week, and it hadn’t been a pleasant scene.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve only—” Just then, she felt a paw on her knee, and she dropped her gaze. “Hey, little man. How are you?”

  Buddy whimpered. “I’m okay, but where did Rudy go?”

  She glanced around the library, then stared at Sam. “Do you see Rudy anywhere?”

  Sam rested his elbows on his knees. “What does your dog have to do with the Lowensteins?”

  “I just realized that I left two pups in this room, but only one is here now. I can’t think of anything else until I find my dog.”

  “Oh, for—” Sam muttered a not-so-nice phrase under his breath. “Stay here. I’ll scout the place.”

  The second he left, she reconnected with the Bichon. “How long has Rudy been gone? Did he say where he was going?”

  “Uh-uh. He just said he wanted to find you, wedged his way through the door, and took off. But that was a while ago.”

  “Okay, you stand watch. I’ll be back in a minute.” She peered into the hall, made sure Sam was nowhere in sight, and headed into the crowd. She doubted Sam would do much in the way of hunting for her boy, but she could see him getting into another heated discussion with Judge Lowenstein. Maybe even Mariette.

  Before she got a foot into the living room, her mother approached, a scowl gracing her face. “Do something about your dog.”

  “I’m trying to find him. Where is he?”

  Georgette heaved a sigh. “He strolled into the middle of the three guests of honor right after Stanley introduced them. They were accepting congratulations from a group of well-wishers, including two reporters. The next thing I knew, he’d jumped onto Stanley’s lap and become the center of attention.”

  Oy. “I’m sorry. Where is he now?”

  “How should I know? The judges went to have their pictures taken near the fireplace. I tried to tell you having that dog here would be a disaster. If only you’d—”

  Ellie left her mother sputtering and took off. Things were going to hell in a handbasket. Next thing, Rudy and Sam would get into it somehow. She could see the headlines now: LOCAL DETECTIVE AND CANINE BRAWL AT JUDICIAL FESTIVITIES.

  Weaving through the guests, she made her way to the fireplace and its brightly blazing electric logs. Stanley and the three nominees were giving an interview, but there was no sign of Rudy.

  She edged past the invitees sitting at small tables the caterers had brought in, and slipped by guests clustered in groups, holding drinks and chatting. When she arrived in the foyer she heard a shriek and stopped in her tracks.

  The powder room door flew open and a woman raced out, her face the same color as her red dress. “There’s a dog in the bathroom,” she shouted to anyone who would listen. “A real, live dog.”

  Great.

  Georgette took that moment to rush to the woman’s side. “Mrs. Thachette, I’m so sorry. Let me get an attendant and have him removed.” Her mother put an arm around the woman’s quaking shoulders. Searching the foyer, she glared at a young man wearing a white jacket and a grin. “You. Go in and get that canine out of there.”

  Then Georgette focused on Ellie. “I swear, Ellen Elizabeth, if that animal isn’t out of here . . .”

  “Mother, it’ll be fine. Why don’t you take Mrs. Thacker—”

  “That’s Thachette,” the woman said, correcting Ellie as her lips quivered. “And I’m highly allergic.” She put a hand on her barely there chest and fingered a ruby necklace. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

  “Take Mrs. Thachette to your private suite and help her get settled,” she said to her mother, Then she opened the bathroom door and stared at Rudy.

  “What! What? I was just lookin’ for you.”

  Ellie stepped inside and closed the door. “Where have you been?”

  “Pickin’ up a ton of lawyer jokes, and collectin’ a lot of interesting facts. I tried to tell a couple of them legal beagles to XYZ, but they ignored me.”

  “XYZ?”

  “Examine your zipper.” He snickered. “Most of those guys are incapable of lockin’ up their privates.”

  She shook her head. “You are the most—” Opening the door, she called the still-smiling attendant over. “Please follow me. I need a favor.” Spinning around, she hoisted Rudy in her arms and headed for the library.

  Sam’s head was growing heavy. He’d watched Ellie pace for a good ten minutes, and had to admit it was as tiring, and about as boring, as watching a Ping-Pong match on ESPN. Worse still, when she paced she didn’t walk in a straight line, but went in whatever direction struck her. His neck ached from following her erratic lines and looping turns.

  “Will you stop?” he finally said, stepping in her way.

>   She raised her gaze to meet his. “I can’t. Something tells me I’ve made a stupid mistake. That attendant told me he was familiar with dogs, but what did that mean?” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “He’s been gone for close to thirty minutes. What if he walked into traffic and got smacked by a cab? Or maybe one of the dogs slipped its leash and took off running. Rudy knew I was annoyed. What if he decided to go home on his own, and that attendant is chasing him down Sixty-sixth with no clue to where he’s going?”

  “Listen to what you’re saying. There’s no trick to walking a couple of dogs—”

  “Oh, really.” She gave him the look. “Remember who you’re talking to, fella.”

  Sam groaned. “Okay, okay. What I meant was there’s no trick to walking a pair of well-behaved dogs who know this area and are familiar with city streets. Is that better?”

  She sniffed. “I guess so.”

  “And how would Rudy know you were annoyed with him? What did he do—tell you?”

  “Yes. No.” She ran her fingers through her curls. “But Mother’s furious. The judge thinks she’s blowing what happened to Mrs. Thachette out of proportion, and that’s only making her madder. In the end, I’ll be blamed for everything and anything that went wrong tonight, no matter what I say or do.”

  Sam gathered her in his arms. “So what went wrong? Rudy drew some attention away from the guests of honor and frightened some society woman in a powder room? Big deal. Who cares?”

  She gulped out a laugh. “Okay, okay. When you put it that way, you’re right. He didn’t do any real damage, and most of the people here, except for Mrs. Thachette and a couple of other stuffed shirts, all like dogs.”

  “Now you’ve got the right attitude. Far as I can tell, your only real problem will be Georgette, and you’re used to her complaining. You can handle her.” He loosened his grip and looked her in the eye. “Am I making any sense?”

  “You’re making lots of sense,” she told him. Stepping away, she went to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a tissue. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

  There was a knock on the door; then the attendant brought the dogs inside with a flourish. “All done,” he announced. “The little guys really know their stuff. I took them around the block twice because they were so good.”

  “It’s cold and they aren’t wearing their coats,” Ellie began. “And I thought I told you to make it—”

  “Thanks so much,” Sam interrupted, patting the kid on the back. “We’ll take it from here.” He passed the young man a twenty and led him out the door. Turning to Ellie, he grinned. “See. No harm, no foul. The dogs are fine.” He bent and unsnapped their leashes, then put them on the desk. “You feeling any better?”

  “A little.”

  When she squatted and pulled Rudy near, Sam figured it would be best if he let Ellie do her thing.

  She linked an arm around Buddy’s neck and gazed into his eyes. “You two had me worried. Was that kid nice to you?” She cocked her head. “Really?” Smiling, she dropped a kiss on his muzzle. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  He shrugged. If there was any guarantee he’d get as much attention from her as these mutts did, he’d grow a tail and a second set of legs. Another knock on the door sounded and he went to answer it.

  “Sam, my boy, mind if we come in?”

  “Of course not, sir. It’s your office.” He opened the door wider to allow Stanley and the Carmodys inside.

  “Ellie, thanks so much for taking care of our little man,” said Mrs. Carmody. “I heard they just got back from a nice, long walk.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Ellie. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

  “More importantly, did you?” the woman asked her.

  When they huddled and began to chat with Stanley, Captain Carmody nodded to Sam. “I saw you bending Judge Lowenstein’s ear a bit earlier,” he said in a low, even voice. “Then you held a conversation with Judge McDonald and the district attorney a couple of minutes after that. Is there anything you want to tell me, Detective?”

  Sam looked him in the eye. “I have a theory cooking in the drag queen case, Captain. I may need your assistance if things get difficult.”

  “I thought that was a done deal.”

  “It was until yesterday afternoon. Then the case veered off track. Detective Fugazzo and I had to go at it from another angle, and some interesting things started turning up. Things we didn’t expect.”

  “Are you going out on a limb, or are these ‘interesting’ things solid?”

  “I’ll know better in the next forty-eight hours. I have to do a little more digging, which is why I needed to speak to Judge McDonald and the DA.”

  Captain Carmody nodded. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, but make certain your information is on the money. I’d hate to see you ruffling important feathers for nothing. It’s always tough digging out from under if things don’t pan out the way you expect.”

  “Yes, sir. I know that. I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I ask of you, Detective.” He gazed at the two women, sitting on the sofa and chatting with Judge Frye. “I want to thank you again for putting that bug in my ear when you wrapped up the Albright case. I haven’t seen my wife this happy in several years. Owning Buddy has done her—done us both—a world of good.”

  “There’s no need for further thanks, Captain. I’m beginning to understand how some people feel about their pets.”

  Carmody rocked back on his heels, a grin splitting his Irish face in two. “I just bet you are. It’s nice to see that you and Ms. Engleman are still together.”

  Sam didn’t say a word. He couldn’t.

  “Well, it’s time the Mrs. and I head for home.” The captain walked to the desk, picked up Buddy’s leash, and brought it to the sofa. After he hooked the lead, the Bichon jumped into his arms and began licking his chin. “Judge Frye, always a pleasure.”

  The judge held out a hand and Mrs. Carmody clasped it in her own, stood, and said, “Ellie, Detective Ryder, it was nice seeing you again. Good night, Stanley, and thanks for inviting us. We’ll just say our good-byes to your charming wife and be on our way.”

  “I’ll follow you,” said Judge Frye, guiding his wheelchair behind them. “I should be at the door with Georgette for the grand exodus.”

  Sam was beat. The night had proven to be an eyeopener, and he had a ton of crap to do before he assembled his paperwork and presented it to Judge McDonald. If his theory proved to be a dud, he’d have to walk on eggs and take a shitload of ribbing from Vince and his pals for the next couple of months.

  “How about you and I join that mass retreat? My guess is your mother won’t be able to make a single negative comment with so many important people around to hear her complain.”

  He snapped the leash on Rudy’s collar and Ellie came to her feet. “You’re probably right.” Leaning toward him, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks for being so understanding.” Then she grinned. “But don’t think I forgot about that conversation you had with Norm Lowenstein. I’ll just save the grilling for tomorrow.”

  Chapter 19

  Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. Ellie checked her nightstand clock, and saw that it was almost nine—late for Rudy, who usually needed to go out by eight even on weekend mornings. Well, the little stinker could just hold it a while longer if he thought giving her extra sleep time would get him back in her good graces.

  She had yet to talk to him about his behavior at the party, mostly because Sam had stayed the night. It was tough having a serious discussion with your dog when someone else was in the apartment. Someone who didn’t condone or even understand what you were doing.

  After arriving home from the party, she’d been so beat all she could do was undress, wash off her makeup, and tumble into bed. Now, with a solid eight hours of rest under her belt, she was ready to face the world, and her boys. First, a nice bit of private time with Sam, and then she’d cook him a good breakfast and
ask him about his conversation with Norm Lowenstein and that other man. And after he left, she’d have a sit-down with her yorkiepoo.

  But her hope of spending time with Sam died when she turned over and found Rudy curled on the pillow.

  “Don’t rush getting up or anything,” he said with a yawn. “The dopey dick already took me out.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, not sure she’d heard correctly.

  “He left a note. It’s around here somewhere.”

  She rolled to the edge of the mattress, sat up, and took a deep breath. Rudy had to be telling the truth, because he’d never be this complacent if he were lying. But why was the dopey dick—er—Sam being so interactive with her dog? It was the third time in twenty-four hours that he’d given her help with Rudy’s care.

  The apartment was quiet—no sound of the shower, no kitchen racket, and no smell of brewing coffee. Standing, she faced Rudy, who was in full stretch mode, his front feet out and his bottom up.

  “And where, exactly, might I find this note?”

  “Search me. For all I know it could have accidentally got lost—or something.”

  “Or something?” Now at his side of the bed, she inspected the pillow, then dropped to her knees and searched the floor. “Aha!” She picked up a wrinkled piece of paper covered in teeth marks and smeared ink, and read it out loud.

  “Ellie: Had a ton of work to do. I’ll call you later. Sam.”

  She gave Rudy a look. “Something tells me this note was on the pillow when he left.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s my territory.” Jumping to the floor, he gave a full-body shake.

  “We’ll discuss this later.”

  After setting the note on her dresser, she pulled clean underwear from a drawer, went to the closet, where she found a navy sweater and jeans, and took everything to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, showered and presentable, she was in the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee while Rudy watched her from his corner.