How to Kennel a Killer

by Cat Clayton

“I see,” I said, stirring my pie ingredients around with my fork. I dug out the peas, rolling them up and onto the side of the tin. I’m not a fan of the way the tiny green vegetables popped when biting into them. If the police didn’t think Buzz had anything to do with Petunia’s murder, then what? Where did it leave the investigation? My mind traveled back to Vivienne and her husband.

  Mr. Peacock had a Stumble account, and he was on Petunia’s friend list. Vivienne wanted Petunia’s job. She also had a huge issue with her entering the pet costume contest. I needed to find out if Vivienne knew about the dating app on her husband’s phone.

  “And Vivienne or Mr. Peacock?” I asked.

  “Both on my radar,” he said.

  “Good.” The more I thought about it, Vivienne had the perfect motive for Petunia being out of the picture. As for means and opportunity, they both needed more investigating.

  Cuff and Taffy had retreated to the couch where they snuggled on top of the fluffy cushions. His mind had gone silent, which meant he’d fallen asleep. I loved my dog, but dealing with two sets of thoughts could drive a person bonkers. I wished we could go back to a normal dog and human relationship.

  I forked another bite into my mouth when Jackson spoke up.

  “Hey, are we good?” he asked.

  I eyed him as I chewed. The thought of his marriage still stung, but I didn’t see the point in rehashing it. “Yes.”

  “You sure?” he asked again.

  I nodded, needing to let it go. “The meeting tonight went well.”

  “Everyone seemed a little on edge though,” he said, finishing his meat pie.

  “Can’t say I blame them. I am too.” I replayed the evening’s meeting over in my head.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t believe anyone else is in danger at this point.” He wiped his fork clean with his paper napkin. “My gut instinct tells me the key in solving Petunia’s death revolves around whoever she’d been seeing,” he said.

  “What about a jealous spouse?”

  “It’s possible,” he said.

  I collected our pie tins and forks and took them to the kitchen sink.

  “I’d say jealousy could definitely drive someone to murder,” I said, my mind drifting back to the Peacocks. Was Vivienne cunning enough to murder someone?

  “Should I worry? About your jealousy?”

  I spun around and eyed him. “Too soon.” I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m serious. What if the wife of the guy found out about the affair? Pop said Petunia had mentioned some threatening messages on her phone. Maybe y’all could look into them.”

  He shook his head. “We tried. She had erased everything on her phone, including the app itself.”

  “Well, she must’ve done it the day she died, because it’s how she connected with my dad. I mean they already knew each other, but the app allowed them to know the other sought a relationship. And she may have removed the app from her phone, but she didn’t delete her account. I know this for a fact.”

  Jackson studied me for a moment. “I trust you when you say you’re deleting the Stumble account.” He stood up. “I’m headed back to the station to finish some paperwork. I’m on tomorrow night, too. But, come Friday, I’m off for three days. So, I can help with the parade and contest.”

  I smiled and decided not to reply to his statement about me deleting my account. I would. Soon.

  “We’ll need all the help we can get. Some of the dogs over at the rescue society are being brought over, too. If we don’t have enough volunteers, I’ll have to drag out a few of the kennels to hold them until we can round up some folks to help,” I said. “Every pet needs a handler for the parade.”

  “Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask,” he said, winking. He adjusted his undershirt, tucking the bottom into his trousers so it hugged tight and smooth against his body. “Before I go though...” He sauntered over and gathered me into his arms.

  I inhaled his warm, yummy scent and wrapped my arms around him.

  He pulled back, lifting my chin with his hand, and kissed me. His lips were whiskery, and at first, gentle. Then, he deepened the kiss and my knees went weak. I melted against him, enjoying his strong hands pressing me closer. Every inch of me responded to the kiss. When finished, he pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there.

  “Thank you for hearing me out earlier,” he whispered, his breath warm on my skin.

  I nodded and squeezed my arms around him. “I’m usually not so forgiving. Consider yourself lucky I find you so irresistible.” Actually, I’m the lucky one, I thought.

  “Irresistible, huh?” he said, smiling. “Okay, I really need to go. On the count of three, we both let go. One... two... three...”

  We both held on tight.

  “For real this time,” he said, chuckling. “One... two... three...”

  We pulled away from each other, both of us grinning. He retrieved his bullet-proof vest from the back of the kitchen chair and slipped it on next came his uniform shirt. I enjoyed the view. He picked up his gun belt from the counter and secured it around his waist.

  “Can she stay over tonight?” he asked, nodding at Taffy.

  “Of course.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow then,” he said in a husky voice.

  “I’ll walk you out so I can lock up.”

  After I secured both front and back doors, I ran upstairs to clean the kitchen. On cloud nine, I hummed to myself. A sleepy-eyed Cuff trotted into the kitchen.

  I am so happy she is not going with that woman, Chiquita.

  “Me, too,” I told him. “Jackson will come get her in the morning after he gets off duty. So, enjoy her company.”

  Will do, Chiquita. He padded back over to the couch, hopped up, and settled back to sleep.

  I switched off the overhead light, grabbed my cell phone, and headed to my room. After brushing my teeth and getting into my jammies, I crawled into bed and flipped open my phone. I eyed the Stumble icon on my home screen, my finger hovering over it. Delete or keep, I thought. A little more searching couldn’t hurt.

  I opened the app, went to my account, and searched again through the list of men in a fifty-mile radius. I studied a couple of other profiles.

  I clicked on StanP54, whom I knew to be Mr. Peacock, at least by the photos he’d provided. I went to his like list, which gave me the profiles that’d shown interest in him. I scrolled until I found Petunia’s profile. I couldn’t see if they’d messaged, met, or connected. Darn. Well, here goes nothing.

  I liked his profile and clicked on the connect with me option.

  I only found Petunia on one other man’s friend list. One by the name of Mich5166, fifty-one years old, grew up on a farm in rural Texas, enjoyed fishing, hiking, reading, and surfing. Surfing? Without many places to surf in our region, I assumed he’d enjoyed the hobby in another lifetime. His pictures were of sunsets, wildflowers, him fly-fishing from the back, and the ocean. Not one photo of his face. Darned the bad luck!

  I glanced at the like button on his home profile page, below it the connect with me option.

  I clicked both, closed the app, and rolled over.

  Tomorrow, I’d see if either of the men answered back.

  THE DAY’S APPOINTMENTS went off without a hitch. Stoney helped us again, which made getting the dogs in and out super smooth. I met Jackson for lunch, returned Taffy to his care, and now, Cuff and I headed over to the bank to make a deposit for the shop.

  I opened my large sling bag for him to hop into. The bank frowned upon pets inside, but as long as he remained concealed, they wouldn’t say anything.

  As I waited in line, I checked to see if I had any messages from StanP54 or Mich5166 on Stumble. The Mich guy had liked my profile and added me to his friend’s list. One message from him waited.

  Thank you for contacting me! I would love to meet you for a drink, so we can meet in person. How’s tomorrow evening? I can be at Little Bob’s, say 8:00 PM. Ok?
>
  My hands trembled, and I hesitated to answer him.

  Cuff popped his head out of my bag, panting. Chiquita, do you think this is a wise idea?

  I pushed his head down. “Don’t get us kicked out of here. We’ll talk about this when I’m done,” I whispered to him.

  The gentleman in front of me turned his head, giving me an odd look.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you,” I said.

  Remember, you can talk to me inside your head. Did you forget?

  Yeah, sorry. I’m not really gonna meet the guy. I’ll go, but stay in the car and wait to see if I recognize the guy when he shows up.

  How will you know if he is the guy or not without actually meeting him?

  I haven’t figured that out yet. I thought about it for a second.

  Ooh, I know, Chiquita! Tell him to wear a red shirt with a baseball cap. This way you can spot him on his way in without blowing your cover.

  What would I do without you, little buddy?

  I have no idea, Chiquita.

  I typed a message back to Mich5166. I’d love to meet up tomorrow! 8:00 PM at Little Bob’s is perfect. If you don’t mind, I’m kind of nervous about meeting you. Can you wear a red shirt and a baseball cap so I can look for you? I hit send.

  A reply popped up almost immediately.

  Lol, so you can see if you want to ditch me before you meet me? JJ. ☺

  A just joking and a smiley face? He seemed friendly enough. I typed back. Haha, no! See you tomorrow?

  Yes! he replied.

  I closed the app and hoped to God I didn’t screw this up. What had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 20

  I jumped near into next week when a voice rang out.

  “Next in line please,” the bank teller said.

  I made the Scrubadub deposit, and we left the bank. I lifted Cuff out of my bag and set him on the sidewalk. He peered up at me, his little head cocked to the side.

  I hope you know what you are doing, Chiquita.

  “It’s all good. But this stays between you and me.”

  I cannot speak to humans, besides you.

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Let’s run by Baker’s Bliss. April called and asked me to stop in about the pies for Saturday.”

  Again, you are talking out loud, Chiquita.

  Oops.

  I ordered pumpkin, pecan, and Dutch apple pies for the event. Baker’s Bliss would also supply small paper plates, forks, and napkins with the pie order.

  “The real reason I called is...” April bent over the counter, motioning for me to lean in. “You won’t believe this, but late last night when I closed up, I noticed something triggered the motion light out back. I quickly switched off the interior lights and peered out the window on the back door.” She peeked around me to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

  I glanced back. There were a few customers sitting at tables occupied with blissful desserts, but no one seemed to pay us any attention.

  “Go ahead.” I swiveled my head back around toward her. “What did you see?”

  Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Mrs. Peacock rooting around in the Dumpster.”

  Holy moly, Chiquita!

  You said it, little buddy.

  “What do you think she was looking for?” I asked.

  April did a double-take and reached into her apron pocket. “After she left, I went out and looked in the Dumpster myself. I found this.” With wide eyes, she withdrew her hand and slid an orange plastic bottle toward me.

  When she released it, I bent and studied the empty pill container, careful not to touch it. The prescription read: Buzz McCoy, Medication: Fentilla, Quantity: 30, Take as needed for pain.

  “What do you think?” April asked, tucking the sides of her short bob behind her ears. “We should give this to the police, right?”

  I nodded. “For sure. I can get it to Jackson.” Had Vivienne come here last night trying to cover her own tracks? “Thank you, April. I appreciate you calling me. This is exactly what Citizens on the Watch is all about. Although, remember what Jackson’s been teaching us, not to handle items we believe are evidence.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “No worries. We’re still learning.” I thought back to the gum wrapper and the iron skillet a few months back and how I’d almost botched that case. “I’ve been there myself.” I smiled.

  Using a napkin, I placed the pill bottle in a baggie and ran it over to Jackson down at the police station. I told him how I’d acquired it with the full story about Vivienne Dumpster diving. He promised he’d look into it.

  POP RESERVED A LARGE table at Orsack’s. He wanted to celebrate Stoney’s homecoming and invited a few friends to meet us for an intimate dinner at the café. He’d called Caylee and Brandon, Caylee’s parents—the Piepers, Daniel, Gertie, Jackson, and me.

  Jackson sat waiting when Cuff and I arrived. He’d texted me earlier and said since he worked this evening, he could only stay a short time. A vision in dark blue, Jackson wore a pressed uniform, and he smelled so yummy. He greeted me in a warm embrace.

  Right here, Chiquita. Listening. Try to keep it clean.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” Jackson said, his dark eyes playful.

  “Hi.” I smiled. “I’m glad you could make it for a little while at least.”

  He nodded.

  “You have a busy night?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’m following up on the empty pill container, and another lead in Petunia’s murder,” he said, waving to Pop, who’d walked in with Stoney and Gertie.

  “Can I ask what kind of lead?”

  Cuff wiggled around inside my bag slung over my shoulder.

  Gertie rushed over, interrupting our conversation. “I’m so glad you came to your senses about the other woman, Bolivar.” She pulled him in for a crushing hug. “I thought I’d have to put you over my knee.”

  Jackson blushed.

  Pop offered his hand. “Jackson.”

  “Mr. Lamarr, good to see you,” Jackson said, shaking Pop’s hand.

  Lucky for Jackson, my Pop missed the whole wife drama during his out-of-town trip. According to the pleasant expression on his face, Gertie hadn’t blabbed about it either.

  I took Stoney’s hand and gently tugged her closer to me. She towered over me like a willow tree. “So, y’all haven’t been properly introduced. Stoney, this is my boyfriend, Jackson.” It felt odd to say the word out loud. I squeezed her hand. “Jackson, meet Stoney.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He nodded. “Likewise.”

  Caylee, Brandon, and her parents walked into the restaurant. Caylee went straight to Stoney, the two of them stock still. Both women’s eyes filled with tears, and as if only yesterday, they embraced. Both of them cried and clung to each other, while the rest of us made small talk, giving them some privacy.

  As soon as Daniel arrived, the server sat us at a large round table. Our non-stop chatter and laughter chased away a few couples who’d come in for a quiet meal. Each time a couple requested to move tables, we laughed more. The joyous atmosphere amongst our party felt like good medicine to the soul, healing wounds and hearts.

  Before we all parted ways, I asked Mrs. Pieper if I could steal a few minutes of her time. She ran in the same social circle as Vivienne Peacock, and I had a few questions for her. I knew I’d get nothing but pure honesty out of her, even if I didn’t like what I heard.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” I said, leaning in toward her.

  She smiled and took my hand. “I always have time for you, Steely,” she said warmly. “I bet y’all are so happy to have Stoney back at home safe. I only wish your mother could be here to see her.”

  “Thank you, us too.” Mama and she had been good friends. “Not to change the subject, but I have a rather weird request. It’s about the Peacocks. More about Mr. Peacock actually.”

  A concerned expression clouded over her kind face. “What about him?”

&n
bsp; Lower your voice, Chiquita.

  Good point, I thought. I glanced around, making sure no one overheard. “Do you know if he is a wandering man? If you know what I mean.”

  Her lips parted as if at a loss for words, and then, anger flashed in her eyes. “Has he made advances toward you? If he has, I’ll have his neck! Not to mention what your father will do to him,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.

  I almost swallowed my tongue. “Oh, my goodness, no. Not me.” At least not yet, I thought, recalling I’d tried connecting with him via the Stumble app.

  “I’m wondering if you’ve ever heard of him being unfaithful to Vivienne? Either in the past or recently.” Maybe she’d heard something around town or within their circle of acquaintances.

  “Oh dear. I don’t think the man knows how to keep his pants zipped. Never has, really. They married right out of high school. They were a year ahead of me. She was a cheerleader, and he was the football quarterback for Pleasant Hills High,” she said, taking a stroll down memory lane.

  Can’t keep his pants zipped, huh? I thought. “So, he was a player then?” I asked.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yes. Most definitely a player. Still is, I hear. Seems Vivienne caught him on some kind of dating app recently, pretending to be single. I’d divorce my husband if he behaved like him.” The skin over her top lip had formed a thin layer of sweat.

  It didn’t feel hot in here to me. Maybe talking about the Peacocks made her nervous.

  “What about Mrs. Peacock? How do you think she’d react if she found out he had cheated on her?” I asked.

  Mrs. Pieper dug into her purse and produced a hand fan, which she immediately whipped open and began fanning her face. Her forehead beaded with sweat.

  “Damn hot flashes,” she said, waving the fan back and forth. “I don’t know if it’s from the new medication I’m on or I’ve started menopause, but this heating up from the inside out, is plain awful!”

  By new medication, I wondered if she was referring to her recent diagnosis of breast cancer. My fingers instinctively went for Mama’s locket around my neck.

  I reached out and touched her arm. “I’m so sorry to hear about your diagnosis. Are you feeling okay? Can we do anything for you?”