by Cat Clayton
As his thought came through, I heard the distinct sound of a dog growling. A deep-throated, gargled growl.
“Oh my gosh, I knew it. Monsters are real,” Daniel said, his voice barely a whimper.
Uh oh. It is Princess. She has a bad reputation around town, my pup announced.
Princess skulked out from the shadows, her large canines exposed, lips snarling. She looked hungry or angry or both.
I’d seen the Doberman pinscher in the shop many times; she never looked so terrifying or this enormous. Gertie, Daniel, and I formed a line, shoulder to shoulder. We inched backward away from her.
“Hey there, pretty Princess.” I attempted to relax the animal.
My voice only seemed to anger the canine. She growled again.
“I have something we can use,” Gertie said, digging around in her purse. “I keep these in case of the munchies.” She whipped out a foot-long beef stick in plastic wrap.
I think we can make a run for it. She’s on a zip line. She can only go so far.
I glanced at the giant dog and saw her collar hooked to a thin cable, running from an old gnarly tree to the house. I quickly surveyed the rest of the yard. If we sprinted across the back side of the property, out of the dog’s reach, we’d make it to the car unscathed and all our limbs and digits still attached.
Princess rumbled a warning.
Cuff growled a tiny rattle in response.
I crossed my fingers.
In one swift move, I scooped my pup up, tucking him under my arm.
The Doberman bared her teeth, snarling.
“Uh, Gertie, I think we’re gonna need the beef stick,” I said. “Hurry. Unwrap it.”
Gertie peeled back the wrapper.
“On the count of three, toss the beef stick at her, and we’ll make a run for it,” I said, hoping for the best. “One... two...”
Daniel jumped the gun, running on two and a half, causing Princess to lunge. Something snapped, and the dog charged us. Gertie threw the skinny stick of beef at her just in time and we bolted after Daniel.
Lucky for us, the aromatic meat worked its magic.
We sat strapped in our seatbelts with the car idling as Princess tore through the side yard and into the street, barking and frothing at the mouth like a rabid maniac. No one said a word. I put the car in gear and hightailed it back to the apartment.
AT LEAST NOBODY LOST a foot or finger. As for Gertie’s purse, it wasn’t so fortunate.
“What do you mean you dropped it?” I asked her.
“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Gertie said. “I stuck it between my legs while I unwrapped the beef stick, but then Daniel took off and spooked Princess. I dropped it when we outran the demon dog!”
I peered across the table at Daniel, a hangdog expression on his face.
“I’m sorry!” Daniel said and collapsed his head in his hands.
Do not blame him, Chiquita. I heard Princess once bit off the mailman’s right middle finger.
“Why’d you even bring the thing?” I asked Gertie.
“Hey, it saved our lives,” Gertie said.
“How do you figure?” I asked.
“Well, if I didn’t bring my purse, there wouldn’t have been a beef stick,” Gertie said in a confident tone. She gave me a smug smile.
“She makes a good point,” Daniel said.
My cell phone rang. Jackson’s name appeared on the screen. We all froze. I silenced the ringer and let the call roll into voicemail. Seconds later, a text came through.
Were u at the Jinks house?
I typed back. No.
On my way over, he wrote back.
“Crap!” I yelled, nearly tumbling backward out of my chair. “Get up! Gertie, go change out of your stupid ninja clothes!” I snatched a deck of cards from the counter and tossed the box to Daniel. “Shuffle these and set up Go Fish! Jackson’s on his way over here.”
Gertie waddled into my bedroom. Daniel obeyed my order.
Cuff slinked off to join Virgil in the living room. And I will pretend I am snoozing.
“Nobody admits to being at Petunia’s! Understand? No matter what he throws at us.”
A few minutes later, Jackson sauntered into the apartment and tossed Gertie’s black leather purse on the kitchen table, irritation flashed in his eyes.
A pen, a travel pack of wipes, and half a roll of breath mints spilled out. The Naughty Knight hardcover slid halfway out the mouth of the bag.
Gertie’s eyes popped out of her head.
What a stinker! She’d taken the book I’d told her to put back.
“Any of you have anything to say about this?” he asked, hands on his hips. Dressed in street clothes, a tight black T-shirt and jeans, I assumed he was off duty.
“Yes, I do,” Gertie said. She’d changed into a red jogging suit.
I stared at her with wide eyes. Remember, don’t admit to anything, I thought, hoping she’d get my subliminal message.
If you were only that lucky. Cuff peeked one eye open at me. She does not have doggy intuition. Trust me; I have tested her many times.
“Well?” Jackson said, looking positively ticked off.
Gertie smirked. “Can’t you see we’re trying to play a card game and it’s in our way,” she said, pointing to her purse. “Whose is the dreadful thing, anyway?”
This will not end well, Chiquita.
No kidding, I thought.
Jackson closed his eyes, shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and mumbled something under his breath. I hoped for our sakes he counted to ten.
He dug around in the purse and pulled out the black ski mask. He dangled it over the table.
I gulped.
Gertie shrugged. “Not mine.”
He resumed his search and produced a wallet. Gertie’s wallet. He flipped it open and showed us all the photo ID sporting Gertie’s smiling mug.
Uh, oh. How on earth were we getting out of this one?
Chapter 11
“Look at the photo closely. Isn’t that you? Choose your answer wisely,” Jackson said.
Gertie shrugged. “Not me.”
He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Really? It sure looks like you.”
Gertie adjusted her glasses and leaned in, inspecting the identification card. “Kind of, I guess. But the name clearly reads, Karen Blandy. So, I’m sorry to disappoint you, it ain’t me.”
Daniel wore his confession on his face. I thanked the universe Jackson didn’t ask him anything. I swallowed the gigantic lump in my throat and hoped Daniel remained quiet.
Jackson ran a hand over his tight, buzz cut hair and sighed. In our short time of knowing each other, I hadn’t seen him this frustrated. He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.
“Well, what about this?” he said, showing us the phone. “Any of you three recognize these people?”
They had taken the blurry photo with a night vision camera. I guessed from the crappy quality maybe from someone’s game cam. The image featured the three of us in a line, Cuff under my arm, his eyes glowing from the flash.
Daniel leaned over and glanced at the image, sucking in a breath.
Oh, sweet Jesus, Chiquita.
Gertie spoke up. “Wasn’t me,” she said, popping out of her chair. “I’m not wearing black this evening.” She performed a wobbly twirl and sat back down.
“I gotta run,” Daniel said and started to get up.
Jackson pointed at him. “Sit.”
Daniel grimaced and did as instructed.
“Or what about this picture?” Jackson asked, displaying a clear image of Gertie and me inside Petunia’s front room, the bird lamp shining brightly.
“Where’d you get this picture?” I asked him.
“The neighbors from across the street took it from Petunia’s front lawn. They texted it to me when I responded to their call about y’all breaking and entering,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “But, by the time I arrived, the house was empty and locked up.�
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“Fine. You can stop bullying us,” I said. “It’s obvious we were there. We went to see if we could find anything to help with Petunia’s murder. We didn’t. Now, if you’re finished interrogating us, we’d like to get back to our game.”
Jackson crossed his arms, his eyebrows knitted together as he studied me. “Please tell me you didn’t break into her house.” I sensed his patience wearing thin.
“Okay. We didn’t break into her house.” I gulped.
You tell him, Chiquita. Cuff hopped onto my lap.
“The neighbors across the street said they witnessed you three going around back, and then, they reported seeing you inside the house,” he said, flashing his cell phone screen once more. “And this clearly shows you all inside.”
The tension between us escalated.
“We used a key. So, you can’t accuse us of breaking and entering.” My wounded heart made me defensive and had my attitude in jerk mode. I hated when I reached jerk mode.
Cuff trembled in my lap. I stroked the soft spot between his ears.
Jackson cleared his throat. “Also, the next-door neighbor, Ms. Chen, wants to press trespassing charges, but I’m sure I talked her out of it. Told her we had enough on our hands trying to find out what happened to Petunia. But, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep you guys out of trouble if Pizza Willy’s presses charges.”
Pizza Willy’s?
“Uh, if I may intercede here, we didn’t order a pizza,” Daniel said in a smug tone.
“Yeah,” Gertie said.
“Yes, I’m aware,” Jackson said, his jaw clenching. “But unfortunately, a few doors down from the Jinks house, someone had. And the Doberman pinscher on the run, the one you all provoked, and she broke loose, chased a Pizza Willy’s delivery guy down the road and bit him. He’s getting stitches as we speak.”
“Can they do it? Press charges?” Gertie asked.
I shrugged. “Only if they can prove it.”
Jackson held up his cell phone. “Ms. Chen sent us both this photo of you guys in her backyard, minutes before her dog attacked the Pizza Willy’s dude. She has a game camera mounted in her backyard. The delivery guy claims he won’t be able to work and he’ll have a loss of income.”
“That’s silly,” I said. “He can still deliver pizza with a few stitches.”
Jackson shook his head. “He’ll be unable to sit for at least a week, maybe two.”
“Where’d he get bit? The butt?” Gertie asked, chuckling.
“Yes,” Jackson said.
“Oh,” Gertie said, pinching her lips closed.
“Look, they put a rush on the autopsy. Petunia Jinks died of an opioid-related death. We have a potential murderer out there, and he or she has already claimed one victim. We’re dealing with a dangerous individual. These types of shenanigans make my job more difficult,” Jackson said. He turned and headed to the door.
So, it was definitely murder, I thought.
“Shenanigans,” Gertie repeated. “I’ve always liked the word.”
I shot her a look and followed Jackson down the stairs to lock up.
“Sorry about earlier. Hope we didn’t get you in any trouble,” I said.
Halfway down, he whirled around, nearly colliding with me.
“I appreciate that. And for what it’s worth, Angelica and I are divorcing. I’ve made it clear to her; she and I are over. She’s only staying a few days, and she’s booked a room over at Betty’s B&B,” he said, his dark eyes glinting.
“Okay.” My heart thundered inside my chest. “What is she doing here? May I ask?”
“You may,” he said. “We have a few things to work out, one of them being a joint bank account, and another,” he said, glancing over my shoulder, “is Taffy.”
Sitting on the top step watching us, Cuff yipped.
What about Taffy, Chiquita? Is she okay?
An instant sense of dread washed over me. I knew without Jackson even saying a word what he meant.
Chiquita?
“She wants her dog back,” Jackson said.
NOOOOOOOOOO!!
MONDAY MORNINGS AT Scrubadub were always hairy. Literally. Today was blooming into a fiasco. We already had a full schedule of grooms, but we had two skunked dog walk-ins, our distributor sent the wrong shampoo order, all of us were dog-tired from our nightly outing, and Gertie and I didn’t sleep well on account of Cuff whining and whimpering all night.
Poor little guy.
After he’d learned Taffy would leave with Jackson’s soon-to-be-ex, nothing consoled him. Not even bacon. He’d refused to come down this morning and remained under my bedcovers, sulking.
I hadn’t exactly forgiven Jackson for keeping his wife a secret, but I felt better about it all.
I cracked the back door of the shop and propped open the front door, hoping the fresh air would clear out the skunk smell. Both stinky victims had come and gone, but their stench lingered.
The shop phone rang, and I answered on the second ring.
“Scrubadub, Steely speaking.”
“It’s me,” Pop said. “I wanted to let you know I’m bringing her home. We’ll be there about 3:30 PM. I’ll bring her by the shop first before I take her home.”
My hands trembled.
“Steels?”
“Yes?”
“You okay?”
“I’m good. See you later this afternoon.” Life for our family would change drastically with Stoney’s return. A ball of emotions sat in the pit of my stomach. Apprehension. Excitement. Worry. How would her homecoming play out? I hoped for the best.
As we disconnected, Honey Puckett strolled in with Dewey, a brown goat with splashes of white, and one of her giant Pyrenees, both animals on leashes.
The goat let out a long Baaaaaahhhh as he galumphed about the lobby.
I smiled, hoping it would hide the growing unease I felt because of our family situation. Shake it off, Steely.
“Hi, Mrs. Puckett,” I said. “Let me take these guys to the back. I’ll be right with you.”
I led the dog and goat pair to the back kennels to wait their turn. I announced their arrival to Daniel and Gertie.
“Psst!” Daniel whispered as I headed back up front.
“What?”
“Well, I’ve...” he said. “I’m not sure what to do with him.” Daniel nodded to the goat in the metal holdover cage.
“Work your magic. You’ve got this,” I told him. This would be our first encounter with a goat. I figured grooming a goat couldn’t be too difficult.
“We’ll wash him up like a dog and give his coat some shine. Maybe trim up the beard, too,” Gertie said. She clapped Daniel on the back. “Let’s get back to business. My stomach’s eating itself and I’m ready for lunch.”
I left the two to their work and had Honey fill out paperwork on Dewey.
Honey Puckett was in her late forties, maybe fifty, and beautiful inside and out in a natural way. Ivory skin, sandy-brown wavy hair with wisps of silver, round cheeks, and a full, light-up-the-room smile. She made a flannel, mud boots, and blue jeans look country chic.
I asked about her other Great Pyrenees we’d seen before.
Her hazel eyes watered and her lower lip trembled.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry for your loss.” I put my hand over hers. “We didn’t know.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” she said, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her teal and red flannel “It’s... well, I had to give him away, and I still feel terrible.”
“Mrs. Puckett, my most sincere apologies.”
“Call me Honey,” she said, managing a smile. “They were our first pair on the farm. I think we should have picked younger dogs. The breed has a very protective instinct over the herd animals. Thinking I was a threat near the baby goats, he bit me pretty severely.” She showed me a scar on the back of her hand.
“Oh, my. Looks like it hurt.”
“It did and required thirteen stitches. The couple we’d gotten him and
Pooka from offered to take him back. With his size, I didn’t want to take the chance of him biting one of the boys. The guilt of giving him back almost killed me. I really thought I could make it work.”
I felt her pain.
“I’m awfully sorry to hear it,” I said.
“Pooka is a gentle giant. We recently put her through training, and now, she visits patients at area hospitals and nursing homes.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful.”
She flashed her beautiful smile.
“Pooka and Dewey will be about two hours. Can we call you on your cell phone when they’re ready?”
She recited her number and gave me special instructions on Dewey. According to Honey, he ate everything he could get his mouth on. Duly noted. We registered all her pets for the costume contest and she left to run errands.
In between checking clients in and out, I stole peeks at Petunia’s journal. With the chaos of Jackson’s interrogation last night, I’d forgotten all about the journal until it slipped out of my bag this morning. Most of the entries were various posts about the library, gardening, Patches, and some dating app called Stumble.
I found one regarding leaving her position at the library.
September 5th I think it may be time to retire. I want to see the world. I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland. No time like the present.
October 2nd I’ve connected with someone on Stumble. Imagine my surprise when I discovered who he was! Lord knows, I know better, but ... We talked nearly half the night about all the things we have in common. I told him we should be friends, but the pull toward him is so magnetic. Like we were meant to be. I’m not sure friends is an option for either of us.
I skimmed through the ones where she talked about things unrelated to a suspect in her murder. The entry regarding Buzz, I found alarming.
October 11th I had words with Buzz this afternoon. Again. I told him hunting animals so he could mount them and sell them is despicable. I know he’s been poaching. We had a heated debate at the library. I advised him if he didn’t leave the premises, I’d call the police. I also told him if he didn’t quit killing deer off-season, I’d turn him into the game warden.
A few posts closer to the end of the journal Petunia mentioned having issues with him and things had become weird between them. Without a name, I had no earthly idea who she was talking about. Buzz? The mystery guy? I didn’t have a name yet, but I knew one fact. They had a strained relationship. She had written the last couple of entries five days before she died.