by Cat Clayton
October 19th I can’t. He’s married for Pete’s sake! I’m feeling very confused and sad. The two of us are soulmates. I can feel it. Maybe he will leave her for me. But I don’t want to be the reason a marriage breaks up. I can’t... no, I won’t be that kind of person.
The next entry read:
October 19th I’ve ended it. He is furious and told me I gave up too easily. He said if I wanted to be with him, I should wait for him. I told him I couldn’t be a part of splitting up a marriage. This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It’s for the best. I have to move on and let him go.
Petunia Jinks had been seeing a married man. But who?
Chapter 12
I connected to the Internet on the computer and did a Google search on Stumble. If Petunia had met a married man on there, I might find some answers on the app itself.
My search informed me the dating app targeted people forty and older, and the subscribers could search and find like-minded individuals in their regional areas using the GPS locator on their phones.
No matter how much I didn’t want to call Jackson, I needed to give him Petunia’s journal. Without a doubt in my mind, I believed someone had murdered Petunia. Could the motive have been jealousy or a crime of passion? Maybe whoever Petunia had been seeing killed her so his wife wouldn’t find out—or because Petunia broke things off with him. My mind swirled with the possibilities.
I typed a text to Jackson, saying I needed to see him ASAP and sent it. There. Done. Sigh.
Dewey Baaaaahhhhh’d from the groom room. I heard Gertie curse. I glanced at the swear jar on the counter, half-full, and chuckled. Charging her for bad language didn’t seem to do her a bit of good. But it paid for my pie supply.
I decided to walk upstairs and check on Cuff. He’d refused to go out this morning, and I knew he had to do his business. I guessed I’d have to drag his little toosh outside.
“Cuff?” I called out.
No answer.
I found him still in my bed under the covers. Virgil sat like a sentry at the bedroom door, his big black eyes droopy. I patted him and hooked his leash to his collar.
I tore back the covers, revealing my poor pathetic pup.
“Cuff, you need to take a break. C’mon. Let’s go.”
No.
I scooped him up in my arms. “I know you’re sad about Taffy. But it will be okay.”
How can you say that? She is my moon, my stars, and my love. You do not understand.
I rubbed his head. “I don’t know heartbreak? Please. When Nick kicked me to the curb, do you remember your advice? I think you said, there are more biscuits in the box.’ I know you’re sad, but you can’t lie in bed all day and mope. Now, help me take Virgil for a walk. He needs to go out, too.” I bent over and grabbed Virgil’s leash.
Okay, Chiquita. You are right. Moping won’t solve anything. And I need to pee.
THE DOGS AND I STROLLED down the sidewalk, both of them lifting their legs on everything upright. In front of No Place Like Om, Wren stuck her head out of the door.
“Don’t forget beginner’s yoga tonight,” she said with delight. She’d added a few teal streaks to her light brown hair.
Yoga. I’d forgotten alright. Not to mention, Pop and Stoney would be arriving this afternoon. Ugh. But looking into her excited eyes, how could I turn her down again?
“I’ll be there,” I told her.
“Groovy!” she said and retreated back inside.
Maybe I should go to yoga. It might be good for my depression.
“You’re depressed?” I asked Cuff.
Yes, Chiquita, I think so.
“I know something that may cheer you up. Your police officer costume arrived today.”
Cuff barked and wagged his tail. I have always dreamed of being a police officer.
We strolled down to the park and I let the dogs run around for a while. I must’ve zoned out, thinking about Stoney. When my phone buzzed on my lap, I nearly dropped it on the ground. I swiped it open and read a text from Daniel.
911. Need help. Where r u?
HAD I NOT JOGGED THE entire way back to the shop, the commotion in the front lobby would’ve been hilarious. I huffed and puffed and dragged my wheezing butt inside. Cuff and Virgil scooted in between my legs.
“Need. Inhaler. Top. Drawer,” I said between short breaths.
Chiquita, you okay?
On all fours on top of the front counter, Daniel retrieved my inhaler and launched it at me.
“Watch out for her,” Daniel said, pointing to Pooka.
I sat on the cold, tile floor and gazed into large, dark eyes. A long, pink tongue panted at me. Drool dripped from her muzzle. I closed my eyes and steadied myself to keep from collapsing. Pooka let out a whine.
“Need. To. Catch. Breath.” I took a deep puff, feeling the tightness in my lungs release. My face tingled. I exhaled and took another puff for good measure. When I finally opened my eyes, I took in the surrounding scene.
Cuff licked my hand. Better?
I think so, I thought.
Baaaaaaaahhhhhhaaaaaa! Dewey bellowed. He stood straddled across two chairs near the front window, his mouth working side to side in a chewing motion.
Gertie sat perched on a stool, her feet pulled up, her arms wrapped around her knees. “It’s about damn time! Where were you?”
From the countertop, Daniel tossed a peanut-butter dog treat to Pooka.
“Took the dogs. Out. For a walk.” From the lack of oxygen, I could barely string two thoughts together. “Why? Is the goat in the window?”
“The goat is the least of our worries. Pooka won’t let us down!” Daniel said, pointing at the big white dog.
Pooka swung her head in my direction and offered me a loud Woof!
“Hey, girl,” I said.
She trotted over to me, sat, and panted hot breath in my face. Her fluffy tail swished back and forth on the tile floor. She leaned in and planted a slobbery kiss on my cheek.
Chuckling, I reached up and dried my face.
“She wouldn’t hurt a flea. Call Honey. Tell her they’re done. I’ll be in my office.” I stood and stumbled into my office and onto the couch, leaving them to deal with the chaos.
I closed my eyes and rested until I heard my office door squeak open. I sat up slowly, feeling much better.
Daniel and Gertie, followed by Cuff and Virgil, entered.
“Are they gone?” I asked, sitting up slowly.
“Honey picked them up,” Gertie said.
“We were thinking of salads from Orsack’s today since we have yoga this evening. What do you think?” asked Daniel, unrolling the sleeves of his red and blue plaid button down. He plopped down in my office chair.
Cuff hopped into his lap.
Pet me.
And as if he heard Cuff’s thoughts, Daniel stroked the blond hair on top of Cuff’s head between his ears.
Ooohhh... yeah, right there. That is the spot.
Gertie sat down on the couch. Virgil collapsed on the floor next to my feet.
“Speaking of eating, Dewey escaped while we were busy with Pooka and ate part of this,” Gertie said, tossing me Petunia’s journal. “Did you take it from her house?”
“Ugh!” I grunted, thumbing through the book. “Why didn’t y’all tie him up?”
“We did. He chewed the leash in half,” Daniel said. “But, most of the journal seems to still be there. Sorry.”
“I guess I should’ve told you to put him in a kennel. And yes, I found it at Petunia’s house. Sorry, I kept it from y’all. Well, at least you found it before he destroyed the entire thing.” I flipped through it and assessed the damage. I made sure the last entries hadn’t been ruined and read them out loud to Gertie and Daniel.
“Interesting,” Daniel said.
I set the journal to the side and stood up. The dizziness had subsided, my breathing back to normal.
Take it easy, Chiquita.
“Do you think we should give
the journal to the cops?” Gertie asked, taking a long draw on Big Red. She made funny popping sounds as she exhaled a large poof of vapor. “I hate this thing. It’s hard to make smoke rings.”
I ignored her whining. “Yes, I’m handing the journal over to Jackson as soon as I hear from him. Why wouldn’t we?”
“For starters, it gives us a leg up on the investigation,” Daniel said in a snarky tone. He shrugged. “Right?”
“Right. But we’re dog groomers, guys. Not cops,” I said, attempting to be the voice of reason in the room. Studying my two accomplices, somebody had to do it.
Gertie bristled, took another puff, and choked out a reply. “We’re not only dog groomers. We’re Citizens on the Watch, might I remind you?”
“Hold your thought,” I said and headed to the lobby. I returned seconds later with the standup menu chalkboard and wiped it clean. “Yes, we’re Citizens on the Watch. We keep an eye out for crime. But, when we see something, we report it. We work alongside the police department. We’re not vigilantes.” I retrieved a stick of white chalk from my desk drawer and began to jot down the information we had so far.
Petunia. Poison/Fentanyl. Library garden. Suspects: Buzz McCoy, Vivienne Peacock, unknown male, Donny Thomas. Motive: threat of calling game warden, wanted her job, hiding affair, anger/job/money. Means: anyone could get a hold of an opioid on the streets these days. Opportunity: Petunia was alone in the garden. Any of the suspects could’ve brought her poison-laced coffee.
“As a member of the COW, Donny Thomas is the weakest suspect in my book. I can’t see him harming Petunia about a possible job or lack thereof. He had no motive.”
That’s good Sherlocking, Chiquita. Make sure you add a coffee cup to the menu board. I think it is important.
Oh, right. I drew an arrow above Poison and Fentanyl and added the clue, Coffee Cup.
Gertie stretched her short legs. “All the sharing of information is fine, but I prefer to work alone,” she said. “Maybe we should change the name to “Citizens Gone Vigilante. C.G.V., I like the way it rolls off the tongue. Sounds official.”
Both her and Daniel took turns trying out the acronym.
Daniel bounced up from the chair, beaming. “I like it, too. Put it on my luggage!”
“C’mon you two, be serious!”
They both laughed.
“Your seriousness makes you boring,” Gertie said.
I sighed and headed for the door. “You’re right. I think I need some brain food. Maybe pie.”
“I’m having a salad. Pie makes my butt big,” Gertie said, waddling behind me. “I gotta fit into yoga pants at 5:00 PM.”
Stress can’t exist in the presence of pie. After a Monday morning such as we’d had, I deserved pie instead of salad. The slice of heaven also settled my nerves for the surprise back at the shop.
As I wolfed down my last bite, I received a text from Pop to meet him in the back parking lot ASAP.
My heart nearly stopped when we arrived. I stared into the haunted eyes of a ghost. I clutched the heart locket at my chest and my eyes filled with tears. Had Daniel not been there to catch me, I would’ve crumpled to the ground. I patted his shoulder in thanks.
“Hi,” I said to Stoney, my voice barely a whisper.
“I’ll give y’all some time,” Daniel said, scooting around us. Uncomfortable moments were not his thing.
Is that her? Cuff whined next to my feet. She does not look like you.
No, she doesn’t, I thought. She’s the spitting image of my mother. Our mother.
Fifteen years had passed since I’d seen her last. No longer a sullen teen, Stoney grew into a tall, slender, and lovely woman. Her chestnut waves spilled down over her shoulders, billowing in the breeze. Her milky complexion suggested a life spent indoors, and her troubled brown eyes spoke volumes of suffering.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
Even her voice sounded like Mama’s, which cut straight to the heart.
Gertie approached her. “Dumplin’. It’s so good to see you.” It was strange hearing Gertie say her nickname for Stoney out loud. We’d always been Dumplin’ and Baby Sister when we were little.
Gertie reached out her arms toward Stoney.
At first, Stoney stood there, unmoving, until Pop gave her a gentle nudge forward.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Stoney shuffled forward and allowed Gertie to hug her, the awkwardness rolling off my sister. When they broke apart, I moved in for a hug. Everything about her felt familiar. Her eyes, her soft voice, her smell. I couldn’t help but miss Mama even more.
Neither one of us said a word.
Stoney’s arms fell limp, and she glanced at Pop sideways. She took a step back from me, putting distance between us.
“I’m taking your sister back to the house and get her settled,” Pop said. “She’s had a stressful couple of days and I’m sure she needs to rest.”
Couple of days? Try fifteen years.
“Oh, okay. No worries. We can talk later. Another time.” I smiled. “I’ll drop Gertie by the house after our yoga class.”
“Yoga, huh?” Pop said, arching an eyebrow. He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Yes, later would be good. We also need to talk about what happened while I was gone,” he said and ushered Stoney toward his Jeep.
Ugh. Shoot me now. I wondered if he’d somehow heard about The Great Burning of Waxed Dolly.
Stoney glanced back over her shoulder, giving me a hesitant smile and waved.
I waved back.
“Phew,” Gertie said, patting me on the arm. “That was rough.”
“I’ll say. C’mon, we have the afternoon grooms to start on. And I think you’d better prepare your defense. I’m guessing Pop heard about what happened at Little Bob’s the other night.”
Gertie shrugged. “By the number of views the video’s received, I’d say half the damn world’s found out about it.”
“You’re keeping tabs?” I asked.
“You would be too if you were famous,” she said and marched in the back door.
Infamous is more like it, I thought.
Daniel already had Cecil, a short-legged dachshund mix in the washtub. “I’ve checked Sid in; he’s waiting in the lobby. But you might crack open the front door. He’s ripe today. Gertie, can you bring back Moocher? He’s the black terrier mix,” he said.
“Sid’s here again so soon?” Gertie asked.
“Apparently, Mr. Walton changed him back to a cheap kibble instead of his raw diet. His skin is inflamed and stinky again. We’re doing a soothing herbal sitz bath for him,” Daniel said.
“Okay, you got it, Danny Boy,” Gertie said, saluting Daniel as we passed by the groom room.
Cuff followed me up front. Phew! The poor guy.
I took one whiff and agreed with Cuff.
I propped open the front door with a pumpkin we’d set out for decoration and Gertie led Moocher to the back. Sid’s stench filled the front lobby, so I lit the citrus spice candle on the counter and hoped for the best.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Walton,” I said. “Hello, Sid!” I patted the pup on the head. “You’re such a good boy.”
Mr. Walton grumbled a hello. “Sid will take part in the costume contest. I’ll pay his fee after his bath.” He went back to tapping away on his tablet.
I peeked over his shoulder as I made my way back to the counter. “Words with Friends.” I wondered if he and Gertie were playing together. I’d have to ask her later.
“Sounds good. Thank you for signing up.” I hated to admit that participation in the fundraising contest had definitely increased since Petunia’s passing. It had to be a coincidence. Right?
Cuff curled up in his plush bed under the counter near my feet.
I need a power nap, Chiquita.
Nighty-night, I thought.
While Gertie and Daniel washed and groomed, trimmed and clipped, I cut strips of bandanas to make bows for the dogs until my fingers cramped. I loved the bright
neon colors we’d ordered recently. They added the perfect touch to our clients’ dogs upon completion.
A text from Jackson came through on my cell phone.
Can I stop by later this evening, say 9:00 PM?
Oh, dear. I picked up my cell phone, gaping at the message. I knew I had to get the journal to him, but was I ready to face him yet?
Chapter 13
My hand trembled as I thought about how to reply. Or did I pretend I didn’t see the message? I decided I needed more time. I’d reply later, when I had the guts to see him.
I set my phone down on the counter and slid it aside. Jackson wouldn’t be happy when he learned I’d taken the journal from Petunia’s house. He also would more than likely want to discuss his current circumstances. I did not.
At the far end of the counter, the front page of the Pleasant Hills Banner caught my eye. I reached over and pulled it closer and studied the photo of the library and a smaller photo of Petunia. The headline read: Pleasant Hills’s Beloved Librarian Found Dead. The newspaper could stand a lesson in tactfulness. Underneath the library picture, bold text stated: Pleasant Hills PD suspects poisoning as the cause of death.
The front door opened and Lizzie Madden breezed through wearing a black linen dress, her raven hair wild and windblown. I glanced at the computer screen. She didn’t have an appointment, and she didn’t have either dog with her.
“Hi, there! How can I help you?” I asked.
She smiled, her green eyes shimmering. “It’s how I can assist you, my dear,” she said. “I want to help out with the pet costume contest this Saturday.”
I’d be a fool to turn her away. We needed all the help we could get.
“Oh, it’d be wonderful,” I said, thinking quickly of what we needed help with. “Well, would you be interested in judging?”