How to Kennel a Killer

by Cat Clayton

  Ten minutes after he hung up with the chief his phone rang. He swiped it open to take the call with furrowed brows.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, standing up. He leaned over the balcony, surveying the street below.

  I knew by his reply the caller was Chief Becker. Again.

  When he disconnected the call, he informed me they had results from the prints on Buzz’s pill container. They’d found several sets. Buzz’s, three unidentified prints, and Lizzie Madden’s. Luckily, her prints were on a national data file from when she’d been hired as a hospice nurse back in California.

  “This proves she took the missing bottle of medication. Buzz had told the truth. Her prints prove everything, really.”

  Jackson patted my knee. “Yes, but we still need to bring her in and get her confession.”

  “Well, of course,” I said. Now, if they could only locate her.

  “I also have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” he asked.

  “The bad news.” I quickly wondered if I’d made the right choice. Maybe I should’ve gone with the good news first.

  “I have to go in this evening. Lloyd called and he’s offering his help to find his wife,” Jackson said.

  “Well, except for you having to go into work, it sounds like y’all may solve the case soon. So, what’s the good news?”

  He turned to me and smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “We don’t have to let it ruin the next couple of hours; I don’t have to be in until eleven. What shall we do?” He pulled me up from my chair and gazed down at me.

  My legs threatened to give out. “What do you want to do?”

  “I can think of a hundred things I’d like to do,” he said, winking. “To you.”

  Oh my. I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering, a warmness spreading through me. He led me to the couch and sat down. He pulled me down onto his lap and gathered me into his arms. I leaned against his firm body, savoring his touch. The nearness of our bodies made me shiver.

  “You cold?” he asked.

  Quite the opposite. “No, I’m good,” I said, snuggling into him.

  With a sense of urgency, he flipped me onto my back and steadied himself over me, holding most of his body weight off me. From our stomachs down, our bodies met. He dipped his head low, kissing first my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, my chin, and then, my lips. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing his upper body down. Closer. A tiny moan escaped my lips.

  His eyes popped open and he pulled back a few inches. “Steely?” he asked, his dark eyes smoldering.

  “Yes,” I replied in a teasing, playful way.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “Quite.”

  Cuff barked, startling us. Both dogs sat on the floor underneath us, eyes bugged, heads cocked, staring. We laughed in unison.

  Hey, Chiquita, take that to the bedroom why don’t you.

  “I feel like they’re judging us,” I said.

  He wiggled out of my arms, stood up, and extended a hand to me.

  “I have a solution.”

  I took his hand and followed him into my bedroom.

  SATURDAY MORNING, I woke up early. I’d had a difficult time sleeping, probably from the excitement last night with Jackson, my curiosity about Lloyd’s visit to BPD, and today’s festivities.

  I threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, brushed my teeth, and rubbed in some mousse to tame the hair. I fixed myself a cup of coffee and settled on the couch.

  My cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. Baker’s Bliss scrolled across the screen. I picked it up and swiped to take the call.

  “Steely speaking.”

  “It’s April. I tried to call the police station. Nobody answered. So, I called you. Steely, I remember. The coffee,” she stuttered, her voice laced with worry.

  Police station? She seemed to be rambling.

  “Remember? We’ve already ordered coffee for the event. But, no rush. I’ll send Daniel over to pick it up when he gets here,” I assured her.

  “No, I mean, the coffee Petunia drank from here! I remember who picked it up the... the day she died. Steely, it was Lizzie Madden,” April said.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. I remembered Lizzie always writes checks when she pays. And I have the check here. It’s still in the money bag, same date, and the exact amount for one large coffee and one large latte, plus tax. I checked her out. I remember her telling me the latte... oh my gosh, I can’t believe I forgot. But I remember now. She ran it by the library for Petunia,” she said. “Oh, my gosh, Steely, do you know what this means?”

  “Yes, I do. Good job, April. I’ll tell Jackson as soon as he gets here. Listen, keep the check. They’ll probably need it for evidence. And, until they find her, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “Find her? Who the police?”

  “Yes. She attacked me last night.”

  “Steely, Lizzie stopped in here, about thirty minutes ago, and ordered two coffees to go. I think her coming in is what jarred my memory. It’s what sent me on the hunt for her check.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh no is right. Steely, she looked awful, like something the cat dragged in. Said she signed up to judge the pet costume contest this morning. She acted so strange. When she left here with the two coffees, I asked her who the other coffee was for, and she told me a friend. Where do you think she’s headed? Is someone else in danger?”

  “I’m pretty sure I know where she’s headed. I’ll call Jackson and let him know. Thanks, April.”

  We hung up. I immediately dialed Jackson’s number. It rang and rang. I hung up when his voicemail answered.

  The woman is loco, Chiquita.

  “You can say that again.”

  I sent Jackson a quick text informing him Lizzie had been spotted at Baker’s Bliss earlier, and April had recalled it had been Lizzie who’d bought coffee for Petunia the day she died.

  I dashed over and glanced out the sliding glass door, scanning the street below. I didn’t see anything suspicious.

  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Jackson’s number again. No answer. Crap! Crap! Crap! Where is he!?

  Call the cops, Chiquita.

  “Good idea,” I said.

  I am full of them.

  I called the main number for the police department. No answer. I checked the time on my phone. 7 AM. Where is everyone?

  Before I dialed the emergency line, I decided to send one more text to Jackson. I’d give him five minutes to reply, and then, I’d dial 911. Somebody had to find Lizzie Madden and fast.

  A text came through from Jackson.

  Lock your doors.

  I tapped out the message, not even checking for typos.

  Have y’all found her?

  Following a lead now.

  I’m worried. She definitely killed Petunia. No doubt.

  I paced, waiting for his response.

  I know. Lloyd spilled everything last night.

  He replied again...

  We’re out at her parent’s place in Old Washington now. I’ll be back in town in an hour. Call 911 if you need to. Don’t hesitate.

  I typed Okay and hit send.

  I whistled for Cuff.

  “Let’s go downstairs and make sure everything’s locked up tight.”

  Okay, Chiquita. Let me go first.

  My brave little pup padded down the steps, sniffing the air.

  All is good, Chiquita.

  I rushed down the hall and doubled-checked the back door. I peeked into my office and gave the groom room a once over. Cuff’s head cocked to the side as he stared toward the hallway.

  Chiquita?

  “Yes?” I said, the hair on the back of my neck prickling.

  Did you hear that?

  “No, what?”

  Someone knocking, up front.

  I bolted around the corner, into the hall, and Cuff collided into my legs when I came to a screeching halt.

  Lizzie Madden s
tood at the front door, two to-go cups of coffee in her hands, and an insane grin smeared across her face.

  Chapter 28

  Oh no, Chiquita! Cuff began barking his head off.

  “You need to leave, Lizzie!” I shouted, loud enough for her to hear me through the glass.

  “Let me in, Steely! I’m sorry about the other night! I need to talk to you!” she said. “About the contest judging!”

  If little miss cray-cray thinks I’m opening the door...

  Her dark tresses were unruly, her brown linen shirt rumpled. Her green eyes were fierce, despite her words pledging to apologize.

  “I’ve come bearing coffee!” she said, holding up the paper cups.

  Oh, I bet you have, I thought.

  Cuff howled like a tiny wolf.

  “Cuff, hush! I can’t think straight.”

  I shook my head at Lizzie.

  “The cops are on their way! You’d better leave!”

  In a screaming fury, she flung the coffees to the ground, brown liquid sloshing on her pant legs when one of them busted open. She wrapped her hand with a scarf from around her neck and punched her arm through the glass. She flipped the lock and carefully withdrew her covered hand. As she thrust open the door, I bolted and crashed into the wall. It knocked me silly for a second. I could hear Cuff barking and growling and Lizzie screaming for him to shut up.

  I tried racing to the apartment stairwell door, but she beat me to it, slamming it closed. She threw me up against the wall, pinning me by the shoulders. Rage spread across her face.

  “Why did you kill her? I thought y’all were friends.” Maybe if I got her talking I could stall whatever she had planned for me, and give Jackson time to arrive. She pressed into me, outweighing me by at least thirty pounds.

  “She betrayed me! She made me do it. She and Lloyd thought they were so clever. Like I didn’t know. But I broke into his phone, and I saw what they were up to,” Lizzie said, clenching her teeth. “He almost left me for her, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Why me? What did I ever do to you?”

  Keep talking, Chiquita!

  She glared at me. “When you and your sister came sniffing around the gallery, I knew you were trouble. Then I saw your message about meeting him. I couldn’t let you do the same thing Petunia did. I won’t have it!”

  Cuff tore at her pant legs. She kicked at him, trying to throw him off, all the while she screamed obscenities at me, accusing me of sleeping with her husband.

  I tried to reason with her and explain I had no interest in Lloyd and I had a boyfriend.

  My answers didn’t faze her.

  She shrieked and rammed my head into the wall. I slid down to the floor like a limp ragdoll, my head spinning, hearing Cuff barking ferociously.

  And my world went dark.

  I woke, groggy, and felt Lizzie pressing something against my mouth. I clamped my lips shut. Cuff yapped, but I didn’t see him anywhere, his shrill barks echoing in my head.

  “Drink it!” Lizzie screamed in my face.

  I stared into her calculating, seething eyes. With gloved hands, she brought the crushed cardboard cup to my lips once again, trying to force feed me the contents. It finally hit me as the aroma of coffee wafted around me. The witch poisoned the coffee!

  “I said, drink it! Or I’ll pour the damn stuff down your throat!” she said, her expression wicked.

  Chiquita!!!!!

  I thrust my head forward, ramming her in the face.

  She wailed, falling backward, grabbing her nose. What was left of the black coffee spilled onto the floor.

  I scrambled over to her and drew back my hand, karate-chopping her in the throat, rendering her breathless.

  “By the way, I take my coffee with cream!” I shouted at her.

  I don’t know how I found the strength, but I grabbed a huge handful of her hair and lugged her into the groom room.

  She choked, flailed, thrashed, reaching for my arms, bellowing and screeching.

  I knew if I let her go, or gave her a second of opportunity, she’d overpower me and take me down.

  It was do or die!

  Cuff yelped beside me.

  With all my might I hauled her over to the kennels, one of the doors, thankfully, pulled wide open. I shoved her in and slammed the door shut, locking it. I reached up and grabbed the container of zip ties, ripped one out, and pulled it through where the door latched, zipping it tight.

  Lizzie acted like a rabid dog.

  I fell to the floor and noticed Cuff locked in one of the nearby kennels.

  Oh, Chiquita, I tried. He whimpered as I let him out. He licked my hands, my arms, my face.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay. We did it,” I said, scooching myself until I backed up against the washtub.

  Bam! And that is how you kennel a killer! Cuff sat on his haunches beside me.

  “Steely!” I heard Jackson’s voice come through the front door.

  “Back here!” I said, patting Cuff on the top of his head.

  I LEANED AGAINST JACKSON as Nick cut the zip tie and unlatched the heavy duty dog kennel. I hadn’t been able, nor wanted, to move since I’d locked her up. Nick, with the assistance of another officer, dragged her thrashing body out of the kennel and applied handcuffs to her hands behind her back. Nick heaved her body off the floor and ordered her to stand up.

  “You little meddling—” she spat in my direction.

  Nick yanked her hard. “Don’t say another word.” He towed her out of the room and down the hall.

  Cuff barked at her and parked himself near my leg.

  Jackson brushed the hair out of my eyes. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. The coffee spilled on the floor out in the hall...”

  “We’ve already collected it. I won’t be surprised if we discover it laced with fentanyl,” he said.

  “Me either. She tried to make me drink it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hugging me close. “I should’ve been here. But I thought she’d still be at her parent’s house. When they finally admitted she’d been there, but had left, I couldn’t get here quick enough.”

  He told me Lizzie’s parents explained they’d been worried about her for the past few weeks. They told him she confessed to stalking a woman she suspected Lloyd had been seeing, told them she’d seen pictures and messages on his phone. They feared she would do something. But she was their daughter and they hoped they’d talked some sense into her.

  I guess they were wrong. A parent’s love can be blind, I thought.

  Cuff laid on the floor next to my legs, his tiny head resting on my lap.

  “Don’t feel too bad. My little guy was with me. Weren’t you, little buddy?” I stroked his soft fur.

  That’s right, Chiquita. Always.

  “I have a pet costume contest starting soon.” I attempted to stand, my legs wobbly. Jackson helped push me up. I dusted off the back of my jeans.

  “Really?” Jackson asked, peering up at me, an incredulous expression in his eyes. “Tell me you’re not still insisting on following through with this whole thing.”

  “The show must go on,” I said, managing a smile.

  Cuff yipped in agreement. That’s the spirit, Chiquita!

  Jackson jumped to his feet, taking my arm. He let out a long exhale. “God, you’re stubborn, woman.”

  I nudged him. “But, it’s one of the reasons you love me, right?”

  “Damn straight,” he said, kissing me on the top of the head and leading me slowly to the front lobby.

  DRESSED IN A BUMBLEBEE costume, Dewey ran and bucked up and down Main Street. Instead of a Buzzzzzzzzzzz sound, he let out a Baaaaahhhhhhhaaaaa, bringing smiles and laughter to the Pleasant Hills residents, who desperately needed some happiness after a nightmarish week. Even though our official judge sat down in a jail cell, the show went on.

  The mayor and his wife stepped in and volunteered at the last minute to judge the costume contest. And, it was a good thing, too. Th
ere were so many adorable costumes, I wouldn’t have been able to pick a winner.

  Cuff, dressed in his tiny cop uniform, led the parade, and at his side Taffy pranced in her ballerina tutu and pink princess tiara. Pop walked Virgil, dressed as a lion. Beside them, Stoney led one of the rescue dogs in a gypsy dog costume. Bangles and bells and colorful swatches of material hung from the pup’s harness.

  Daniel and Gertie assisted Honey Puckett’s family and helped walk a pot-bellied pig in a hot dog costume, and a gorgeous mallard duck, that had refused to put on anything, so he went as a duck.

  Vivienne Peacock and her little Pop-Tart sashayed from one side of the road to the other so everyone could get a good look at his Super Dog costume, cape and all.

  When the parade ended, the mayor and his wife judged over twenty pet costumes. They awarded Mr. Peters’s dog Maisy with best in show, a clown costume, full of frill and ruffles. The black standard poodle’s red honking nose topped off the outfit. Runner-up was Gretta’s cat Farah, dressed in a goldfish costume. Princess took third place with a butterfly costume.

  Pop pulled Stoney and me aside after the parade and contest. He withdrew a photo from his shirt pocket.

  “This is y’all and your mother volunteering for the Pleasant Hills Rescue Society. I thought you both would enjoy seeing it.” He handed the photo over to us.

  The picture showed Mama standing next to a dog kennel with me and Stoney in a fenced yard playing with some puppies.

  “I remember this day,” Stoney said, with tears in her eyes. “We used to go with her when she put in her volunteer hours. Do you remember the lady who ran the rescue? She’d say it was our job to give the dogs play time.”

  I nodded. “I remember.” I smiled over at Stoney and took her hand. “Come with me to deliver the donated funds to the rescue group. I have an idea.”

  Stoney and I presented the Pleasant Hills Rescue Society a check with the funds we’d raised through the pet contest and donated monies, plus the six heavy-duty kennels. We made the donation this year in Mama’s honor.

  LATER, THE SAME EVENING, everyone assembled at Pop’s house. Me and Jackson, Cuff, Taffy, Gertie, Stoney, Pop, Daniel and his new friend, and Mr. Peters. Gertie had made supper, and now, we all sat around the kitchen table eating leftover pie from Baker’s Bliss. I turned my nose up at Gertie’s offer for coffee. It may be quite some time before I drank coffee again.