Dog Days (Raine Stockton Dog Mystery Book 10)
Page 10
I assured her that I did, though I wasn’t entirely sure, as I gathered up the goodies. “I hate to eat cookies and run, Aunt Mart, but I just hired a new guy to help run the kennel and I’ve already left him alone all day. I need to get back and see how he’s doing.”
“You did?” She beamed at me. “Well, good for you! Now maybe you can have weekends off every once in a while like a normal person. Anyone we know?”
“No, he’s from out of town. He seems great, though.” I hesitated. “Maybe a little too great,” I admitted. “As in, too good to be true.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, sighing. “I wish you could learn to trust people more. Sometimes the good Lord knows what he’s doing, don’t you know?”
Easy for her to say. She didn’t know anything about listening devices in dog’s collars and men who lied about their wife’s disappearance and … well, men who lied. And I couldn’t tell her that the last man I’d trusted had been a crazed bomber who’d almost killed us all.
I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for all the food, Aunt Mart. I’ll make sure the quilt is in the booth before lunch tomorrow.”
She carried the quilt in its plastic dry-cleaning bag while I carried all the food she’d packed, and Marshall Becker immediately got to his feet as we came out onto the porch. “I’ll take that for you, Miss Mart,” he said, reaching for the quilt. “I was just about to leave.”
Aunt Mart pressed a container of cookies on Marshall Becker, who certainly didn’t try very hard to object, and we spent a few more minutes saying good-bye. Marshall walked me to my car, carrying the quilt. When we were out of earshot of the two on the porch he said, “I left a message for you.”
“I got it.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to say anything in front of your uncle,” he went on, “but I kept an eye on that guy that was hanging around your car yesterday …”
I shot a surprised look at him.
“And when he got into his own car—which was two blocks away and didn’t look anything like yours, by the way—I ran his tag number, just out of curiosity.”
Now I stopped and stared at him. “Terrific,” I said. “As if this country didn’t have enough troubles, now we have to worry about bored ex-cops running our tags just for fun.”
He gave a small lift of his eyebrow. “I thought you might be interested in what I found out, particularly in light of …” He inclined his head back toward the house, referencing our last conversation. “Recent events. But if it offends your sensibilities …”
“Oh for Pete’s sake.” I opened the back of the SUV, put the groceries inside, and turned to take the quilt. “What?”
“The guy was not a reporter,” Marshall responded, “or a tourist. He was a private detective.”
I stopped stone still, staring at him. “A what?”
“I just thought you’d want to know, since even I have to admit his behavior was a little suspicious. Do you know anyone who might be investigating you?”
I felt my cheeks go cold, and then hot. There was only one person I knew who had the money and the means to do something like that. But I happened to know that Miles had run a pretty thorough background check on me months ago, before he ever introduced me to his daughter, and he’d been completely upfront about admitting it. I’d been furious at first, mostly because around here if we want to know everything there is to know about someone we ask a neighbor, not a PI, but after a while I’d realized he was only trying to be a good dad. So if it wasn’t Miles …
I hated myself for thinking it, tried to talk myself out of it, but … could it possibly be his ex-wife? And if so, was she, too, just trying to protect her daughter? Or was she sizing up the competition?
I could feel my teeth clenching with anger, and I made a conscious effort to loosen them. “Does he have a name?” I demanded. “A phone number?”
“I have that information at home,” he said. “I’ll call you.”
I took the quilt from him and laid it in the back of the SUV, pushing aside a dog-hair covered blanket and readjusting a crate to make room for it. I took my time, willing my cheeks—and my temper—to cool. Then something occurred to me and I straightened up, turning back to Marshall.
“This guy,” I said, “this PI. What kind of car was he driving?”
“A Honda Accord,” he replied without hesitation. “Dark blue.” He must have seen the change on my face because he added, “Why?”
“I thought someone was following me yesterday,” I said, frowning a little, “in a dark blue sedan. And last night I had a prowler. I’m pretty sure the car I saw was a dark blue sedan.”
His attention quickened. “Did you call the police?”
I shook my head. “The dogs scared him off before he could do anything. There was nothing to report.”
He looked disturbed. “If it was the same guy, he could lose his license for that kind of thing.” And then he tilted his head slightly, looking at me with new interest. “You do lead an interesting life.”
“Yeah, well.” I slammed the door on the SUV and walked around to the driver’s side.
He walked with me. “You’re going to be at the fair tomorrow?”
“I’m manning a booth.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there. I’m judging jams in the morning and giving a speech in the afternoon.”
“Of course you are.” I opened the door and got inside.
He placed his hand on the door before I could close it. “By the way,” he said, bending down to look at me, “that thing about the aluminum foil is a myth. I’d get rid of that bug as soon as possible if I were you.”
I rolled my eyes a little and put the car in gear. But as soon as I reached the end of the driveway I ripped the foil off the little device, tossed it in the glove compartment, and locked the door. Maybe I didn’t have anything to hide, but that didn’t mean I wanted some stranger listening to everything I said, either.
~*~
Of course, the first thing I wanted to do when I got home was call Miles and demand an explanation for the private investigator who was following me—or at least to find out what he or his ex knew about it. But there were already two cars in the Dog Daze parking lot, and for the next hour Corny and I ran an assembly line of check-outs: I greeted the owners and passed Corny the leash with the checklist of toys and personal items the pup had brought in; I took the payment and told the owners how perfect their dog was; Corny brought the dog and all its luggage to the front and told the owners how perfect their dog was; humans, dogs, and personal belongings went happily on their way, I posted the check and we started all over again. It felt a little like a fast-food restaurant, but we got the job done with an absolute minimum of chaos, and in record time.
When the last day care, grooming, and boarding client who was due to be picked up that day had, in fact, been picked up, I gave Corny a weary high five and told him he could go home.
“I don’t mind staying for the evening feeding,” he insisted. “It would take half the time if both of us did it.”
I was mightily tempted, but I had to draw the line somewhere. “Thanks, Corny,” I said firmly, “but you’ve been here all day. Go home and get some supper. I’ll see you in the morning. Ten o’clock,” I added as I turned to go back to my office.
I thought he hid a flicker of disappointment behind a quick smile. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, “I’ll be here. Do you want me to bring your dogs up from the playroom before I go? They were all absolute angels while you were gone.”
I doubted that very much, but it was nice of him to say so. “That’d be great, Corny, thanks.”
I turned on my computer and brought up the course map I intended to use for tomorrow’s agility lesson in sequencing. While I waited for it to print I glanced through the messages Katie had left rather untidily on my desk. There were two cancellations for class, which suited me just fine since they’d paid in advance and this meant I would be finished sooner; a couple of call-back requests f
or information on private lessons, and a message from a Professor John Rudolph with nothing but a telephone number.
At first I didn’t recognize the name, then I remembered. Corny’s reference. I called him back on my cell so that he would have that number, and I got voice mail again. I left another message, this time with all my telephone numbers, and hung up just as the click of claws and the panting of happy dog breath arrived outside my door. Corny had all five of my dogs on leashes walking in a perfect trot at his side and looking more pleased with themselves than I had ever seen them. I laughed out loud in delight and amazement and of course that broke the spell. Corny released the leashes and the herd thundered toward me, butts wriggling and tongues lolling. Even Cameo, who was new enough to the pack to still be shy, joined the fray. I got down on my hands and knees, opened my arms, and let them bowl me over.
All right, all right, I know. But I’d had a hard day.
Corny looked on with a benevolent smile while I ruffled fur and dodged wet doggie kisses and struggled to keep my balance while twenty paws tried to climb all over me. “Well then,” he said, “if you’re sure you don’t need me …”
I scrunched up my face as Pepper’s tongue got me across the eye. “Thanks, Corny. I appreciate all your help today, really. See you tomorrow.”
I gave each of the dogs a last big hug and got to my feet. That was when I noticed the employment papers I’d left for Corny to fill out that morning were still on my desk, untouched. I snatched them up and hurried after him, calling, “Hey, Corny!”
I reached the front reception area just in time to see him pedaling down the drive. He had left his windbreaker hanging on the coat rack beside the door—an easy mistake to make since it was close to ninety outside this time of day—and I went to tuck the papers into a pocket so he wouldn’t forget them tomorrow. Something was already in the first pocket I tried, and it pricked my finger when I reached in. It was a baseball cap, neatly folded and tucked inside the pocket, and I pulled it out a few inches, smiling a little, just to see what it was bedazzled with.
It was not, however, covered with rhinestones or sequins as I’d expected, but with dozens of tiny gold pins. Dog pins, just like the one I’d found on my kitchen floor that morning.
I went over to my purse, found the little gold schnauzer I had stored there for safekeeping, and compared it to the ones on the cap, frowning. Sure enough, it was just like the others. I could even see the little hole in the fabric where it had fallen off. So how had it gotten in my kitchen? Or perhaps more accurately, when had Corny been in my house? And why?
It was starting to look as though I was the one who needed to hire a private detective.
CHAPTER NINE
I felt bad about leaving the dogs alone most of the day—especially Pepper, who was a guest, after all. Cameo was still exhausted from her adventure and seemed content to snooze in her crate, and Cisco was content to be stretched out on the floor of the playroom beside her, chewing on a bone, so I took Mischief, Magic, and Pepper to the agility yard and let them run the five-obstacle sequence I had set up for tomorrow’s eight-o’clock class.
For Mischief and Magic it was child’s play, of course; they were both seasoned competitors, and Magic had come very close to winning high in trial earlier in the season. But watching Pepper scramble over the A-frame and take the low jumps with her big, flat-footed puppy leaps, ears flying and face grinning, made me laugh out loud with pure pleasure and momentarily drove all those buzzing, annoying, and unrelated questions out of my head. Like who would hide a transmitter in a dog’s collar, and why? And when had Corny been in my house and why hadn’t he mentioned it to me? Who was he, anyway? And, easily the most disturbing question of all: Why had April Madison’s husband lied about how long she’d been missing? Unless, of course, he had a reason for not wanting her found.
And of course there was the whole question of who had hired a private detective to follow me.
I fed the dogs, made myself a tomato sandwich and a glass of iced tea, and took my cell phone out onto the front porch, where the shadow of the mountain and the whirling ceiling fan reduced the temperature by five or six degrees. While I ate, I could at least start to track down the answers to some of those questions.
I put up a gate to block off the steps to the front yard, and all five dogs came outside with me. Mischief and Magic immediately chose the coolest corner of the porch and flopped down to snooze. Cameo stretched out at the other end of the porch, panting mildly as she gazed over the dusty fading day. She had done her job, and she seemed satisfied with it. Pepper nosed in the wicker basket of dog toys—one of several such baskets I kept strategically located around the house—and came up with a fleece tug toy, which she immediately took to Cisco, inviting him to play. Cisco grabbed the other end of the toy, played tug with her for about ten seconds, and had no trouble winning. I tried hard not to laugh when he took his prize over to Cameo and laid it at her feet. She ignored him. Pepper went back to the basket for another toy.
My phone had been off since before lunch, and I saw that, in addition to the call from Melanie, there were three missed calls from Miles, but no messages. Most intriguing, though, was a missed call from Jolene—again no message. She had never called me before, for any reason. I didn’t even know she had my number. I called her back first, and got voice mail.
I gave my name and said, “Did you mean to call me? Because your number was on my phone. Anyway, if you did, call me back. I’m here.”
Next I took from my pocket the crumpled piece of paper on which Jolene had scrawled Tony Madison’s cell phone number, and I dialed it. I got voice mail. I said, “This is Raine Stockton. We met earlier at the hospital. I’m the one who, uh …” This was where it got awkward. “Found your wife in the gorge. I hope everything is going well. I have your dog, remember? I know you have a lot to deal with right now so I just wanted to let you know not to worry about Cameo. I have a boarding kennel and I’ll keep her as long as you need me to. I just wanted to leave my number for you. Just be in touch when you can.” I left my telephone numbers and disconnected.
I took a bite of my sandwich and dialed my own voice mail next, calling up Melanie’s message.
The minute I heard her voice I knew something was wrong. I swallowed quickly, my throat tightening even as I did so. “Raine,” she said. Her voice sounded breathless and shaky, as though she was upset or scared and trying not to be overheard. “Don’t call me back. I’ll get in trouble. My dad says …” Now her voice went high and tight and wet with tears. “My dad says I can’t talk to you anymore! I’m not supposed to … supposed to call you, but I had to tell you … Please tell Pepper I love her! I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again! I have to go.” Her voice caught once more on a sob. “Bye.” Then, tearfully, “Don’t call me. Bye.”
My hands were shaking so badly that if I had had to push more than two buttons I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it. Miles answered on the first ring. “Raine,” he said, but I barely let him get the syllable out.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, my voice sharp with sarcasm and feigned surprise. “So you’re allowed to talk to me, but Melanie can’t? Good to know!” He tried to say something but I sucked in a breath and barreled on, “How dare you? How dare you tell Melanie she can’t talk to me! I don’t care what’s going on with you down there, but I’m her friend—maybe her only friend! She was crying, Miles, she thinks she’s never going to see Pepper again. How could you do that to her? How could you?”
“Raine,” he said, “it’s not what you think.”
“And that’s another thing.” I couldn’t stop myself now. My emotions were like an avalanche, catapulting downhill and carrying me helplessly along with them. “If you want to get back with your ex that’s fine. Do what you want, I can’t stop you. But the least you could do is be man enough to tell me! You don’t have to be such a damn …” My voice was suddenly thick with tears and I swiped angrily at my eyes. “Sneaky, coward about it!”
I drew in a single steadying breath, willing my tone to sound even and reasonable. I was unsuccessful. “I mean, I understand. She’s Melanie’s mother. It’s probably the best thing for her. Maybe for everybody. We never made any promises to each other. That’s not what this is about.”
His voice sounded cool. “Is that what we’ve been doing this past year? Not making promises to each other?”
I cried, “It’s just … how could you tell Melanie not to call me? How could you take Pepper away from her? How could you?”
I stopped talking, mostly because I was afraid that anything else I said would be completely unintelligible. Miles let the silence go on for a beat, and then another. Maybe he was counting to ten. Maybe he was waiting for me to.
He said, “Are you finished talking like an idiot?”
I said nothing, shifting my gaze to the sweet goldens across the porch from me. Cisco nudged the tug toy closer to Cameo. She ignored him. Pepper nipped playfully at Cisco’s tail. He ignored her. I didn’t even smile.
“I know Melanie was upset,” Miles said. “I’ve already talked to her. She knew something was going on between her mother and me and she misunderstood, but I’ve explained things to her now. She knows she’s not going to lose Pepper. I didn’t tell her she couldn’t be your friend. I just asked her not to call you for a while. I wanted to talk to you first.”
I felt that cold, sinking feeling in my stomach again, that hollowed-out, sucker-punched feeling. “So it’s true,” I said dully. “You’re going back to your ex-wife.”
He made a rough sound of stifled exasperation. “What in God’s name put that in your head, I’d like to know! In the first place, that would be the worst possible thing I could do for Melanie. She’d be an orphan inside a year because her mother and I would kill each other long before that. In the second place, I can’t think of anything in this world I want to do less. I don’t even like the woman.”