How to Kennel a Killer

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How to Kennel a Killer Page 22

by Cat Clayton


  “Of course.” I offered her a smile.

  Gertie waddled to the car, clad in sparkle and black, and dropped her giant black purse on the floorboard. The ugly two-handled bag landed with a thud.

  “What’s in the thing anyway? A bowling ball?” I asked.

  “Duh?” she said, falling into the passenger seat. “I have a Gutter Nutter’s game after the stakeout. Can you drop me off? My son said he’d pick me up when the games are over.”

  “Why do you have a bowling ball in your purse?” I asked. She’s lucky it didn’t put a hole in my floorboard. Then, we’d really be in a pickle.

  Gertie twisted her head, looking at me as if I were crazy. “It’s a bowling bag. This is my purse.” She held up a regular sized handbag. “Gosh, did you eat Fruit Loops for supper?”

  Speaking of supper, I’d forgotten to eat.

  Me, too, Chiquita.

  “Did Pop see your outfit before you left?” I asked Gertie.

  “No, he’s taking a nap. Why do you ask?” She pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror to check her scarlet lipstick. She fixed a tiny smear and snapped the visor shut. “You don’t like?” She brushed her hand down her midriff.

  I shrugged. “It might be a bit much for what I have planned. And the wig?”

  She ripped it off and pulled down a black ski mask on top of her head in two seconds flat. “First you see me, now you don’t!” She laughed while the rest of the car sat in silence.

  Without another word, I put the car in reverse and backed out of the drive.

  Wearing her disguise, Gertie switched on the radio, tuning in to a classic rock station. “Joan Jett! I love this song!” She belted out the wrong lyrics to the song, I Love Rock n’ Roll.

  “I thought we had work to do. For the pet contest,” Stoney said from the back seat, as we drove past the shop.

  “We can wrap up the preparations tomorrow. There’s something else we need to take care of tonight.”

  I felt slightly guilty for pulling her into this mess. I explained to them how I’d made a phony account on the Stumble app, and how Petunia had met someone on there, which may have led to her death.

  “I also have reason to believe Vivienne Peacock may have something to do with Petunia’s poisoning,” I said.

  Daniel snorted. “She’s meaner than a snake, but murder?”

  I told them I’d found Mr. Peacock on the Stumble app, and he and Petunia were connected through their profiles. “If Vivienne found out her husband had been seeing someone, it could’ve pushed her over the edge.”

  “He’s the one who’s a snake,” Gertie said, bopping her head to the music. “Cheating on his wife. Not making light of what she may have done, but it’d make me murderous, too.”

  “Yeah, but we know from reading Petunia’s journal, she’d broken things off with the married guy once she realized he was married. So, why kill her?” Although, now that I thought about it, Petunia knew the Peacocks from being in the community. Didn’t she? But who’s to say she knew Mr. Peacock? I hadn’t known him. Was it possible she didn’t know the guy or that he was married to Vivienne?

  Or, could the killer be someone else entirely?

  I guess it is a good thing you are checking this guy out them, Chiquita.

  I gave them details on the profile I’d narrowed down and how I’d set up a meeting with him at Little Bob’s at 8:00 PM.

  “You sneaky dog, you,” Gertie said from under her mask. “You’re a chip off the old block.”

  That she is. Cuff yipped in my lap.

  Daniel leaned up between the two front seats. “Does Jackson know about this meetup?”

  Talk about a Debbie Downer, I thought. “No,” I said. “He’s on a call right now. Let’s go see what we can see, and we’ll tell him later if it pans out. Put your seatbelt on, Daniel.”

  “Just asking,” he said, scooching back.

  I heard the distinct click of his belt.

  “Are you really meeting some strange guy, at a bar, without backup?” Stoney asked.

  Chapter 24

  I glanced back and studied the troubled expression on Stoney’s face. I shouldn’t have brought her. Not after what she’d already endured.

  “Y’all are my back up. Don’t worry. We’re gonna sit in the parking lot and wait for him to show up. Get a good look and see if we can identify him. Or her.”

  “What do you mean her?” Gertie asked.

  “What if Vivienne made a fake profile like I did to watch who her husband is connecting with? It’s possible she’s baiting me,” I said.

  “Ohhh...” they all replied in unison.

  “How will you know who to look for?” Daniel asked.

  Ooh, tell him my idea, Chiquita!

  “Well, since this person’s profile pictures were all of nature stuff, Cuff suggested I tell him to wear a red shirt and a baseball cap. This way we can identify him or her right away.”

  “Cuff?” Daniel repeated.

  I patted Cuff on the head with one hand. “Yep.”

  “Oookaaay,” Daniel said, peering at me in the rearview mirror. “Your dog told you to do it.”

  I grinned back at him.

  Cuff giggled. Even when you are giving him an honest answer, he thinks you are joking.

  I know. Isn’t it a riot? I thought.

  I pulled the car into the side lot of Little Bob’s Brewery. On a Thursday evening the parking lot only had a few vehicles scattered around. It’d be easy to spot Mich5166 when he or she pulled up, either front, back, or side lot. I backed the Bug into a spot near the tree line, put it in neutral, set the parking brake, and killed the engine. The floodlight in the lot gave us enough light to see each other without alerting anyone wandering around outside. To anyone else out there, we looked like a car full of people waiting to go inside the bar.

  I glanced at the car clock on the radio. 7:31 PM. We had twenty-nine minutes until my fake date arrived.

  I unhooked my seatbelt and turned my body to face the rest of them. Cuff hopped into the back and settled on Daniel’s lap.

  “Okay, here’s how it’ll go down.” I laid out my plan.

  Three-quarters of the way into the plan, the whites of Gertie’s eyes through the mask squinted at me.

  “What?”

  “I gotta void my bladder,” she said.

  Gosh, I really disliked the term void. Couldn’t she use the word pee? Or urinate? “Why didn’t you use the bathroom before you left the house?” I asked, trying not to sound snappy.

  “I did. But I have to go again,” she said. “Really bad.”

  I sighed. “Fine. But take off the ridiculous wig and mask and try to act as normal as you can when you enter. Please?”

  “This is an official stakeout mask. I bought it on Amazon,” she said, pulling it off her head.

  I heard and saw the static electricity in her hair. Tiny sparks shot out from her head.

  “And be quick!” I told her as she exited the vehicle.

  This is gonna blow up in our faces.

  Cuff, don’t jinx us, I thought.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” Stoney said, fidgeting in her seat. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

  Daniel patted her leg. “Nah, we’ll be fine. All we’re doing is sitting here and watching for the guy. If we don’t recognize him, we’ll leave. What could possibly happen?”

  The plan I laid out a few minutes ago didn’t allow for the moment when I’d step out of the car and confront the person. I left that part of the plan out on purpose. I didn’t need them freaking out.

  Wow, you even pulled a fast one on me, Chiquita. I had no idea you were thinking about talking to this person.

  I’m good like that. I peered back at him and winked.

  I watched the minutes tick by on the car clock. Goodness, what is taking her so long!

  A thought hit me like a wrecking ball.

  They had banned Gertie from Little Bob’s! Was she detained inside? Had Littl
e Bob called the cops? I readied myself to jump out of the car and go save her when my cell phone rang, startling everyone. Stoney let out a tiny shriek. Pop’s name scrolled across my radio screen.

  Uh oh, Chiquita.

  Oh please, oh please, oh please don’t let this call be about Gertie inside Little Bob’s.

  I put my finger to my lips, reminding them to not say a word. I pushed the talk button on my steering wheel and connected the call via Bluetooth.

  “Hey, Pop!” I kept my tone as cheerful as possible.

  “Steely, is Stoney with you?” he asked.

  “Yes, we’re um... running errands. I have Gertie, too.”

  I noticed Gertie exit the building, swinging something in her hand. A brown paper bag.

  I hope it is bacon, Chiquita.

  I pointed to her. Stoney and Daniel glanced in her direction.

  “Okay. Well, I woke up and everyone was gone. No note. It worried me,” Pop said.

  “No worries. I have everything under control,” I said, rolling down the passenger side car window. I cringed at my not-so-honest answer.

  Gertie approached the car with her mouth wide open, as if about to say something, when she heard Pop’s voice through the speakers. She pinched her lips shut.

  “Alright. Y’all be careful. Drop my mother off at the bowling alley, and I’ll see you when you bring Stoney home,” he said.

  “Got it. Bye, Pop!” I disconnected the call.

  I dropped my head on the steering wheel and beeped the horn by accident. “Crap! Gertie, get in this car, please. You have me so stressed out.”

  “Hey, did you know I’ve been banned from Little Bob’s? Apparently, I’m not allowed within six-hundred feet of this dive.” Gertie asked through the car window, her eyes wide as a whole pie. “But they served me food anyway. Although, I don’t think Little Bob is pleased with his staff they allowed me in there. Can you believe he had the nerve to kick an old woman out!”

  Oh boy.

  “Gertie, please get in the car!” I said, glancing at the dash clock.

  7:53 PM.

  “Sheesh, you don’t have to yell about it.” She climbed into the car and slammed the door. “Wings anyone? I have blue cheese and ranch to dip them in. It’ll be our official stakeout food.”

  I snatched the bag from her.

  She snatched it back. “Apparently, you’re hangry. Have a wing.”

  As Gertie passed the bag around, an old beat up truck pulled into the lot, the lights temporarily blinding me.

  “Is it Mich5166?” Daniel asked, sitting up on his seat. He nudged my shoulder.

  “How am I supposed to know? We have to wait to see who gets out and what the person is wearing.”

  The headlights switched off, the truck door opened, and a man jumped out, wearing a red shirt and a ball cap.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Stoney said. “We know him.”

  “No kidding,” I said, jaw slack.

  Who is it, Chiquita?

  “Lloyd Madden.” What. The. Heck?

  “Isn’t he Lizzie’s husband?” Gertie said, a chicken wing halfway to her mouth. A dollop of blue cheese dressing dripped onto her lap as she gaped out the windshield.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “What’re you gonna do?” Daniel asked.

  This certainly was not in your plans, Chiquita.

  You can say that again, I thought.

  The mixture of stinky cheese smell and the unease about our current circumstances turned my stomach.

  “Gertie, please get rid of those.” I wrinkled my nose at her.

  She frowned. “What am I supposed to do with them? Throw them away? I paid good money for these,” she said, dropping her half-eaten wing into the brown paper sack.

  “I don’t know. But, they’re stinking up the car, and my brain can’t function,” I replied.

  Daniel reached up front. “Gigi, close up the bag and pass it back here. You can eat them later when we drop you off at the bowling alley.” Bless him for trying to be helpful. Unlike my pain-in-the-butt grandmother.

  In a hot-breathed tizzy, Gertie snapped closed the small plastic container of dipping sauce and tossed it in the bag along with the chicken wings. She handed the paper sack to Daniel.

  “Don’t throw them out. I’ll need to eat before this is over. The balls roll better when I have a full stomach,” Gertie said.

  Daniel snorted in laughter. “That’s what she said.”

  “Guys!” My frustration intensified. “Can we please focus?”

  “I think we should go talk to him,” Stoney said. “He seemed very upset at the memorial service today.”

  I’d forgotten she’d ran after him when he stormed out of the service.

  I think she makes a good point, Chiquita. He probably needs a friend right now.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Stoney. I never planned on confronting the person in the first place.” A little white lie, but I’d keep it to myself. “I only wanted to see if we knew him, and then, report back to Jackson.”

  Seeing him standing there, waiting to meet OneGroomyGal, meant Lloyd Madden had a Stumble profile. He was married. It also meant... oh gosh, I didn’t even want to think about the possibility of him having something to do with Petunia’s death.

  I glanced back at Stoney. Worried eyes met my gaze.

  “But it’s Lloyd! I know I only met him two days ago, but, I like him. As a friend,” she said, unclicking her seatbelt. “If you won’t go talk to him, I am.”

  I admired her strong will, but not at the moment. There were so many things I didn’t know about her after all this time of us being separated. I had a lot to learn. But it’d have to wait for another day.

  “I’ll go.”

  I think you should call the good officer Jackson.

  I considered Cuff’s suggestion and decided against it.

  “I’ll be right back. I don’t want you involved, Stoney. Pop would kill me.” I’d gotten us in this mess, and I needed to clean it up. “Y’all stay put.”

  Careful, Chiquita. Do you want me to come?

  I’ll be fine, I thought. I opened the car door, stepped out, and headed over to Lloyd’s truck.

  Leaning against the driver’s side door, Lloyd’s eyes popped out of his head when he spotted me walking toward him.

  Boy, do I have a surprise for you, I thought.

  “Hey, Lloyd,” I said, approaching him.

  If I had to describe his face, alarm would be an understatement.

  “Hi, it’s Steely, right?” he said, glancing around. “You here to pick up food?”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh, the music?” he asked. “I hear this evening’s acoustic band is a good one.”

  I shook my head again. Keep your wits, Steely. “I’m not here for the music either. I, um... I’m here to meet you.”

  He yanked his ball cap down low over his face and dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, a fight or flight expression appeared in his eyes.

  I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and waved it at him. “You’re Mich5166, right? Red shirt, ball cap.”

  My eyes shifted from him to the back of his old pickup truck. I noticed several pieces of luggage, a large wooden painting easel, and stacks of wood panels. I remembered he’d announced in front of Jackson, he was leaving Lizzie. The thought crossed my mind; I wondered if Jackson’s call had been about the Maddens. Had Lizzie flipped her lid when Lloyd tried to leave?

  “Oh, yeah.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and I wondered for a second if he considered bolting and making a run for it. “When I received your message, I guess I assumed it might be your sister.”

  “You assumed wrong.”

  I peered over at the Bug. The dome lights were still off, but I could pick out Gertie’s face, Cuff’s muzzle fogging up the glass, and Daniel and Stoney’s heads from the back seat. It stunned me; they’d a
ctually listened and stayed in the car.

  “I... um, I don’t understand,” he mumbled.

  I turned my attention back to Lloyd. “I’m OneGroomyGal, Lloyd. I’m the one you’re here to meet.”

  “But, you can’t be... you’re not. You have a boyfriend. Did you lie and make a fake account? Why would you do that?” he asked in an accusing tone. He backed up against his truck. “It’s just wrong.”

  I expelled a pfft! and shrugged, my confidence boosting. “And being on Stumble as a married man and cheating on your wife, isn’t? You have a lot of nerve. What’s with the Mich name? And did you meet Petunia on the dating app?”

  He looked down, kicking pebbles with the toe of his boot. “Michael is my middle name and I was born in 1966. Yes, I met Petunia on the app. It’s how we got acquainted. I knew her first, and then, ironically, she and Lizzie became friends.”

  “Petunia and I weren’t exactly close friends, but I knew her well enough to know she’d never get involved with a married guy.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “She was a good person, Lloyd.”

  He hung his head. “You’re right. I know.” He kept his eyes on the ground. “And I miss her.”

  “If you miss her so much, why are you meeting me?” I asked.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  He kicked his boot back and forth in the gravel. “We’d recently moved to town when I met Petunia. We’d seen each other several times and grown plenty close. She was so kind and gentle-hearted. Something Lizzie isn’t.” He continued to keep his head down. “Lizzie has been so cold and distant since we’d moved from California. Being around Petunia was refreshing and good for my creativity. The more time I spent with her, the better I felt.”

  He seemed to be on a roll, so I didn’t interrupt his train of thought.

  “When she discovered Lizzie and I were married, she immediately broke things off. I didn’t want it to end and it angered me.”

  There. He stated what I needed. “Were you angry enough to hurt Petunia? Even kill her?”

  “What’re you talking about?” he asked, whipping his head upright. “No!”

  I backed up a step.

  Chiiiiqqquuuiiitttaaa!!! I heard Cuff.

 

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