How to Kennel a Killer

by Cat Clayton

  “I wonder what she did to lose her job,” I said, thinking out loud.

  Bethany shrugged. “Beats me. I’ll be out there with your coffees in a jiffy.”

  Outside, I glanced around and noticed Nick and Stacia had finished eating and were gone.

  “So, I saw you talking to Nick. Everything alright?”

  He nodded. “They released Buzz earlier this morning.”

  “I’m glad to hear he’s been cleared. As for the Maddens, who do you believe had a bigger motive to kill Petunia? Lizzie or Lloyd?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, sitting back in his chair. He scratched his chin. “I don’t like the fact Lizzie seems to have disappeared into thin air. I stopped by the gallery to see if Lloyd had gone back there, but no luck. I left a voicemail on his cell phone requesting a callback. We need to find her and bring her in for questioning.”

  I informed him of the rumor about Lizzie being a hospice nurse and being fired back in California. I asked him his thoughts on the possibility Lizzie might’ve been the one who killed Petunia, not Lloyd, her motive being jealousy.

  That is interesting, Chiquita. I never suspected it could be her.

  Me either. Until now, I thought.

  I refrained from continuing our tête-à-tête when Bethany bustled out the front door, bearing two cups of coffee and a menu. I didn’t want the ideas I bounced off Jackson to appear on the café’s menu of chitchat this afternoon. Gossip flowed like coffee at Orsack’s, hot, strong, and in abundance.

  Cuff and Taffy hopped into an empty chair at our table and eyed a small flock of grackles pecking the sidewalk near a metal trashcan. Cuff’s sickle-shaped tail wagged as the birds let out their distinct, long squawks.

  I want to chase them, Chiquita. Can I?

  They’re too close to the road, I thought.

  You always ruin all the fun. He laid his head between his paws and watched.

  I rolled my eyes at Cuff’s comment.

  Jackson gave the menu a quick glance and ordered. I caved and asked for a slice of pie, of course. Bethany retrieved the dirty dishes from the table Nick and Stacia had occupied and took them inside.

  Jackson waited for the door to close before he replied.

  “Her being fired is interesting news. I’ll look into it later at the station. But, back when I questioned Lizzie the day after the murder, she claimed her and Petunia were good friends,” Jackson said. “Lloyd admitted to a short affair with Petunia. When we questioned him last night, he stated to Campbell that after Petunia broke things off with him, Petunia threatened if he didn’t quit calling and texting her, she’d tell Lizzie herself to get him to back off.”

  “Do you think maybe Lizzie already knew about their affair and she sought retribution on Petunia by poisoning her?” I asked.

  “It’s very possible, yes,” he said.

  His phone dinged. He flipped it open, sipping his coffee. “Becker issued a BOLO on Lloyd Madden, too. He wants to bring him in for further questioning. Give me a minute and let me call Becker.”

  Jackson clicked the phone screen a few times and put the phone to his ear, getting up from the table. He strode out of Orsack’s seating area and out toward the street.

  What are you thinking, Chiquita?

  “Lizzie Madden might’ve killed Petunia. Now, how do we prove it?”

  Chapter 26

  What about Mrs. Peacock? Cuff blinked at me, his amber eyes bulging.

  I shrugged. “After the way Lizzie came at me last night, I’d have to say Mrs. Peacock’s antics compare to a two-year-old’s temper tantrum,” I said, watching Jackson as he pulled the phone away from his ear and headed back toward the table.

  Several birds had congregated on the sidewalk near our table.

  Can I please chase the birds now?

  Yes, but stay away from the road, I thought.

  Cuff sprung from the chair, Taffy followed him, and they pounced, sending the flock of birds into flight. Both pups yipped at the birds as they flew away.

  Jackson sat down.

  “All okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, give me one more second. I need to send a text to Campbell and Tripp,” he said, tapping on his phone.

  I whistled for Cuff and Taffy to return and peered up and down the street, keeping a watchful eye out for either of the two wanted for questioning.

  Bethany delivered Jackson’s food, my slice of berry pie, and refilled our coffees. I thanked her.

  “Of course, dear,” Bethany said, hurrying off.

  “I offered to work this afternoon, but the chief says I should take a day off. He says Campbell and Tripp arrived for their shifts, and if they bring Lizzie or Lloyd in, he’ll call me,” Jackson said, picking at his food with a fork. “Let’s get back to Lizzie and Petunia. From a woman’s perspective, do you think it’s possible Lizzie could maintain a friendship with Petunia after she discovered the affair between her husband and her friend?”

  I took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Ever heard the expression keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? It’s possible she continued the friendship ruse to keep an eye on Petunia. Women can be ruthless and vindictive when wronged. Add some narcissistic and sociopathic behavior on top of the wrongdoing, and well, you could quite possibly have a murderous outcome.”

  Jackson studied me for a minute. “But how would she get her hands on the fentanyl?”

  “Good question,” I said, stealing a slice of bacon from his plate. I munched while thinking. “But since she used to be a hospice nurse in California, she would definitely know how much to put in Petunia’s coffee to kill her. Don’t you think?”

  He squinted at me, remaining quiet.

  “What. You’re looking at me like I’m the one who’s crazy.”

  He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I’m glad you didn’t go all Lizzie-like when you found out about Angelica,” he said.

  “Too soon.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Okay, okay!” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But, I think what you’re suggesting is very possible, for sure. It doesn’t explain how she acquired the pills, unless...” he said, looking over my shoulder.

  I swear I could hear the wheels in his mind turning.

  “Unless she somehow got her hands on Buzz’s second prescription bottle. But how? Do they even know each other?” he asked, his expression puzzled.

  I recalled Lizzie’s latest art piece. “When we stopped in the gallery the other day, Lizzie was working on covering a deer head. Well, a deer head taxidermy form. It’s very possible she bought it from Buzz.”

  His eyes lit up. “Maybe I’ll take a run over to the taxidermy place again. Can I meet you back at the shop in a few?”

  “What about your breakfast?” I asked.

  “Get it to go for me,” he said, leaning over and kissing the top of my head. He took a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, set it on the table, and took off down the sidewalk.

  A man on a mission. I understood all too well. Not the man part, but the mission part.

  A minute later, Bethany came out to check on me. I heard Jackson’s bike crank up and zoom down the street. I grabbed a container for the rest of his food and paid the bill.

  I think you should reschedule the pet contest to next weekend. It’s been a tough week and I feel you have a lot of stress over it, Chiquita.

  “Absolutely not,” I said and took a sip of coffee and set to finishing off my pie. “I am not stressed. We’ve worked too hard to pull this all together, and besides, the folks would be so disappointed.” I shoveled in the last bite of berry pie, enjoying the sweet and tart explosion coupled with a buttery crust. A food party in my mouth.

  On our stroll back to the shop, I thought about Patches. Where is she? Is she okay? Alone? In honor of Petunia and to quiet my mind, I loaded the dogs into the Bug and drove across town.

  The gallery appeared deserted. I kept my eyes peeled to the surroundings
, watching out for either of the Maddens. I parked the car near the front porch and opened the window.

  Be careful, Chiquita.

  “Will do, little buddy.”

  I whistled and called out. “Patches!”

  There was no sign of her.

  Where do you think she is, Chiquita?

  “I wish I knew.”

  “I believe you should move the pet contest to next weekend, Steels,” Pop said in the front lobby of the shop.

  I saw Jackson roll to a stop at the curb. He pulled off his helmet and removed his cell from his belt phone case. He put the phone to his ear.

  Chiquita, did you hear your Pop?

  “What is it with you two?” I asked. “I feel like y’all are ganging up on me.” I stabbed my fists on my hips. “Seriously.”

  Pop glanced around the room. “I don’t see anyone else in here but me, and nobody is picking on you. But, it’s been a nerve-wracking week with Petunia’s murder and your sister coming home and you were assaulted last night. Nobody would fault you if you pushed the contest to next weekend.”

  Great minds think alike, Chiquita.

  I couldn’t help but get a little defensive. “Look, it’s my shop, and I say the contest will go on as planned. Too many people will be let down, and besides, there is no reason to cancel.”

  “Steels, it’s only...” Pop paced to the front window and stared out at Jackson talking on his phone. “Well, I did some background work on Lizzie Madden after you dropped Stoney and Gertie off last night. It seems she has a checkered past. And, I’m worried about you. I’m worried she may try something.”

  I gave him a dismissive wave. “Yeah, yeah, I know. She was fired from being a nurse in California. Big deal. I’m not afraid of her. Besides, she’s probably long gone by now. And if she shows up, I’ll have her arrested for attacking me. It’s no big deal. So, would you please stop worrying?”

  The front door whooshed open and Jackson appeared in an excited rush.

  “I found this,” he said, holding up an invoice for us to see.

  The invoice read: Ordered merchandise, $325 worth of goods, purchaser, Lizzie Madden.

  “What on earth could she have bought from Buzz McCoy?” Pop asked.

  I took the invoice from Jackson, focusing on the details of the goods purchased. Two deer head frames, one badger frame, and one horse head frame.

  “Oh my... I knew it. She’s been inside Buzz’s shop. Jackson, this means Lizzie had access to his pills! She had to take them when he wasn’t looking!”

  I love the way your mind works, Chiquita.

  Jackson nodded. “Campbell is running prints on the container found in the Dumpster behind Baker’s Bliss.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Speaking of the Dumpster, I haven’t had the chance to tell you, but when I saw Vivienne at Petunia’s service, her ring finger didn’t have a wedding band.” I did a forehead slap. “Gah, I feel awful accusing her, even though she’s a huge pain in the butt.”

  “Well, hopefully, we pull some kind of print from the prescription bottle,” Jackson said.

  “What in tarnation are you two going on about?” Pop asked, his head bobbing between Jackson and me. “Would someone please explain?”

  JACKSON AND I FILLED Pop in on the details we’d come up with since Lizzie ambushed me the night before, while the three of us set up for the parade and contest.

  Cuff and Taffy escaped upstairs to nap, which is what they did best.

  Six large, heavy-duty dog kennels were offloaded from a truck in the back. Jackson helped the delivery guy bring them in and placed each in the groom room against the wall, double stacking them. We’d ordered the kennels for the rescue society. My wholesale price gave them a huge discount, and the company we purchased them from threw the sixth one in for free. The shop would store them here until the rescue society was ready to install them at their new location.

  “Those are sturdier than the city’s jail cells,” Jackson said, testing the doors and latches.

  “No kidding,” Pop said, collapsing onto Daniel’s rolling stool.

  I pulled a plastic cylinder full of zip ties down from the supply closet and set it on top of the nearest kennel. We’d need them in the morning to secure the Scrubadub banner outside between two crape myrtle trees. I couldn’t think of anything else we had left to do.

  “Well, I think we’ve done all we can for today, guys,” I said. “As long as all our volunteers show up, and all the pets have walkers for the parade, it should go off without a hitch.”

  Why did I feel like I jinxed myself?

  Before Pop left for the afternoon, he pulled me aside. Jackson made himself scarce by heading upstairs to check on the dogs. I guessed he could tell Pop needed to speak to me in private.

  “I’m worried about your sister,” Pop said.

  I exhaled and plopped down in one of the chairs in the front lobby. I stared at the carved pumpkin on top of the hay bale outside, wishing away his anxieties over Stoney.

  “Pop, I get it. You’re concerned and you have every right to be. But, you seriously need to back off some. Trust me, she will rebel.” I hoped it didn’t sound as harsh as it did in my head. But Stoney rebelling against authority is what caused her to run away in the first place. I kept the last thought to myself.

  He stood up and began pacing when his cell phone dinged. He swiped his phone open and appeared to be reading a text message. His eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a scowl.

  “Dammit!”

  “What is it?”

  “Gertie says Stoney left with him,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Him, who?” I hoped he didn’t say the man who’d kept her captive all those years. Pop didn’t need that kind of trouble.

  He stopped pacing and faced me head on, his blue eyes fierce. “Lloyd Madden.”

  This is so not good. “He’s wanted for questioning. You don’t think he’d hurt her, do you?” I asked.

  Chapter 27

  “If he knows what’s best for him, he won’t,” Pop said, heading for the door to the stairwell. “Jackson, get down here!”

  Jackson flew down the stairs and we informed him of Gertie’s text. In two seconds flat, we’d locked up the shop, left the dogs upstairs, and jumped into Pop’s Jeep. We raced down Main Street, eyes peeled for Lloyd’s pickup truck.

  Jackson called the station and let them know about Lloyd’s sighting and that he had Stoney with him. Technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet. I dreaded she’d had enough of Pop telling her how to live her life, and she’d made the decision to run off with Lloyd. I reached for my locket, sending Mama a prayer for hope. Please let Stoney be okay.

  With Jackson behind the wheel, we searched the whole town, weaving in and out of each street, back and forth. We drove by the gallery four times. Pop called home every five minutes. The tension in the Jeep escalated, and I feared if we didn’t find her soon, we wouldn’t.

  Stop it, I told myself. Fearing the worst wouldn’t help find her.

  Jackson pulled over near the courthouse and put the Jeep in park, the engine idling. Pop fumed in the passenger seat. I shrunk in the back and prayed.

  I glanced out the side window and something white caught my eye at the city park, down near the pond. I strained my eyes, trying to focus in on the object billowing in the breeze at the water’s edge. A woman in a white dress. Long hair. Stoney.

  “Let me out! There she is!” I kicked the front seat. “Open the door!”

  Pop and Jackson jumped out and I pushed the passenger seat forward.

  “Where?” Pop asked.

  I pointed to the park and took off at full speed with Jackson and Pop hot on my heels.

  “Stoney!” I hollered.

  The figure turned around as we all three entered through the park gate. I reached her first. Pop and Jackson panted to a stop.

  I grabbed her in a bear hug. “You had us so worried!”

  “Where is he?” Pop roared. “I’ll kill the s
onofa—”

  “Pop! Please,” I said, releasing Stoney from my tight embrace.

  Pop crossed his arms and glowered.

  Jackson surveyed the area, his right hand at his hip, ready to pull out his pistol if need be.

  I didn’t see Lloyd anywhere.

  “Stoney, where’s Lloyd?” I asked.

  “He left,” she said in a soft voice.

  “What were you doing here with him?” Pop asked.

  “Talking,” she said.

  “Stoney, I told you this morning, he’s not to be trusted,” Pop said. “You’re in no condition—”

  I held my hand up. “He’s gone. Let it be for now.”

  Pop’s lower jaw shifted sideways, his lips pinched shut.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re safe, and you didn’t leave with him,” I said, more for Pop’s sake than hers.

  She nodded. “I told him I didn’t mind walking home.”

  “Did he say where he’s headed?” Jackson asked.

  Stoney nodded. “To find Lizzie.”

  Pop drove Stoney home with a promise not to grill her any further about leaving with Lloyd. Before they drove away, Stoney told us Lloyd wanted to apologize for everything from the night before. He confessed to seeking companionship in other women because Lizzie had been cold and distant for years. He grew lonely. He’d never meant for anyone to get hurt by his actions, especially Petunia.

  After Jackson called Becker and filled him in, we sat on the balcony and enjoyed the evening’s sunset over a beer and a glass of wine. The pups lounged on the concrete landing under our feet.

  “Do you think he’ll turn her in if he finds her?” I asked.

  Jackson shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. I would hope he would, but he may get suckered into her web again and they could go on the run together.”

  I thought about it for a moment. Lloyd did seem like the pushover type, but I felt he also had a good heart. He meant well. I think. But did he have the backbone to give up his wife’s whereabouts to the police?