“I’m sure my clients will appreciate that.”
“Dress to the level to which you aspire. That has always been my motto.”
“And what level would you suggest a dog behaviorist aspire to?”
She clicked her tongue and didn’t answer. “How is my little boy doing?” she finally said, turning her attention to her dog, who quietly waited by her feet. She picked him up, his tail wagging as she stroked his fur.
“Fine. Edith, I’m curious about something. When you go out of town, who do you have take care of Shogun?”
“We used to take him with us, on those few times we traveled together.”
“Did you ever ask Cassandra to watch him?”
She winced at the name. “No. Although we were close friends, I would never have asked her. She didn’t like dogs.”
“So you never, for example, brought Shogun over there when you were visiting Cassandra?”
“No. But I can’t promise the same is true for Trevor.” Through clenched teeth, she added, “For all I know, he might have been Cassandra’s pimp.”
Though I’d become inured to Edith’s caustic comments regarding her husband, her remark about Cassandra rattled me. “Um, I don’t think I want to get into this. Cassandra was a nice lady and a good mother, and beyond that, I—”
“Yes, she was both of those things. And I considered her a friend, despite her faults. Furthermore, I sincerely hope the police find her killer and string the bastard up by his thumbs. Unfortunately, though, by the sounds of it, I knew Cassandra a good deal better than you did.” She looked me straight in the eyes and said firmly, “I knew that she should have put a revolving door in her bedroom.”
For just a moment, an expression of genuine sorrow passed across her features. She added sadly, “And that my soon-to-be ex-husband would have had his paw prints all over it.”
Chapter 15
I decided to ignore Edith’s last remark as best I could. During our conversation, Shogun had rushed under the writing desk in the corner of the living room. He was obviously used to hiding out there.
Edith followed my gaze and saw where he was cowering. She managed to put her anger toward Trevor aside long enough to bend down and call, “Come on, Shogun,” in a high voice with a you’re-going-to-get-a-treat enthusiasm. He came up to her with only a slight hesitation.
Trying my best to give her the benefit of the doubt, I had her run through some basic training routines. This was always a good way for me to get a feel for how a dog and his owner relate, not so much by watching the dog’s responses, but by watching the owner’s reactions to the dog’s responses. It’s amusing to me how seriously the human contingent always seem to take this exercise. Invariably the owner reacts as though I’m sitting in judgment of his or her ability to properly train the dog.
In this case, Edith was clearly very anxious to please, and so was Shogun. The dog was enthusiastic throughout and obeyed very well, which was what I’d expected from my own experience with Shogun during the past couple days.
I clapped my hands once loudly when the dog was in the middle of a lie-down-stay routine. As I expected, Shogun was startled, leapt to his feet, and let out a quick series of shrill, scolding barks at me.
“What did you do that for?” Edith snapped in the human equivalent of her canine’s reaction.
“Just testing his temperament. Can we step into the kitchen for a moment, please?”
“Certainly,” Edith said with a hint of impatience.
Though Edith didn’t question me, I had asked this last as a way to see how at home Shogun felt. Most dogs who consider themselves the alpha dog of the pack will dart ahead of their owners and lead the way into rooms. Less dominant dogs, however, tend to follow a few steps behind, then plant themselves in the doorway afterward.
“Shogun isn’t normally this jumpy,” she said to me as we entered the kitchen. Shogun rushed ahead of us, but—tellingly, in my opinion—stayed by my feet rather than by Edith’s.
“I’m sure that’s true.” Which was what I’d tried to tell her the very first time she’d come to me with Shogun.
“It’s all that he’s been through, lately. Getting kidnapped by Luellen and then by my husband and then, well, pardon my bluntness, but by you. The poor baby doesn’t know if he’s coming or going.”
That was an interesting, and very one-sided, interpretation of the facts. A bit of revisionist personal history going on there. “Not to mention his witnessing Cassandra’s murder,” I added a bit caustically.
She winced. “I try not to even let myself think about that tragedy. Cassandra was a dear friend of mine. It’s too upsetting to think about her meeting with a violent end, right here in my own house.”
Right. A “very dear friend” whom, minutes ago, she was calling a whore. My eyes were drawn to the deck. Everything looked normal there now; no hint of the horrid scene I’d stumbled upon a few days ago.
Edith lifted her recently sculpted nose and said, “I would like very much to think that Shogun somehow missed witnessing the actual murder. I’m quite certain it was Trevor. Some sort of lover’s quarrel, I suspect. I’d like to believe that he at least put Shogun in his car beforehand.”
I studied her face to make sure she was serious. Her lips were set in a firm, thin line. The prospect of anyone killing someone in the heat of passion, after first swooping his dog up to protect him from witnessing the act, was sheer lunacy. “Even if it was Trevor who killed her, he didn’t have Shogun right after the murder happened. Luellen did.”
“Oh, please.” She gave me a dismissive wave. “Luellen worships the ground that Trevor walks upon. She’d lie to the priest on her own deathbed for her brother’s sake.”
“But Edith, it doesn’t make any sense that Trevor did it. Why would Trevor have come here to your house? Surely he knows your schedule at the store. He would have expected you to be here, not Cassandra. Even if he did have a motive, why kill her at your house?”
“That answer’s obvious. He lured her over here and killed her on my property to frame me.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. This dark side of human behavior was so sickening to me. Wasn’t it tragic enough that a woman, a supposed good friend of hers, had been murdered? How could Edith suspect her husband on top of everything else?
“Well, Edith, I know you have to run, and I think I’ve seen enough.” I knelt and pulled Doppler’s leash out of my pocket. “Come, Shogun.”
The hum of a lawn mower resounded outside. The noise was coming from the direction of the Haywoods’ property, and I wondered if that could possibly be Susan Nelson, out mowing her parents’ lawn. My stomach was instantly in knots at the thought of facing her, but I’d have a guilty conscience forever if I didn’t find out what had transpired between her and her husband, thanks to my report to the police. First, though, I had to complete the matter of the ownership of Shogun.
Shogun trotted over to me, and I fastened the leash on his collar.
“What did you decide? Which of us gets the dog, me or Trevor?”
That was not a question I felt like answering yet. I stood up and met the intense gaze from her gray eyes. “It would probably be best if I waited to discuss this until the two of you could be present. Why don’t we set up an appointment at my house this evening? I’ll call Trevor and see if there’s a good time for him to come over tonight.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why, you little...fool! You’ve chosen Trevor, haven’t you?”
I tried to head past her toward the door, cutting a wide arc around her. Despite his owner’s angry demeanor, Shogun followed in perfect heel position. My neck and throat still ached from my run-in with Carver. I so desperately didn’t want to have a second confrontation the same day. “I didn’t say that, though you’re not helping your case any.”
“It’s obvious by the way you’re behaving.” She stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips. “You can’t be serious. You seemed intelligent to me, but I totally overestim
ated you. You’re planning to give my dog to a murderer!”
“The police will solve Cassandra’s murder case, Edith. If Trevor is guilty, he won’t have Shogun for long.” I opened the door as I spoke. “The job you hired me to do was to determine which of you should keep your dog. While Shogun is happy here and you do a fine job with him, there is not a doubt in my mind that he is even happier with Trevor. So, yes, that’s what I’m recommending.”
I stepped out onto the porch, feeling as though I were running in front of a train, by the way she stormed after me.
“If you think that’s the end of this, you’ve got another thing coming!”
She slammed the door behind me, barely giving Shogun time to get through it.
Shogun was badly frightened at nearly getting crushed by the door. Now wanting to go back inside and give Edith a piece of my mind, I knelt and reassured the sweet dog. Where did she get off hiring me and then treating me like dirt? Had she ever seriously believed that I would find in her favor?
The warm air carried the fragrance of newly cut grass. From my crouched position on Edith’s porch, I watched Susan mowing the Haywoods’ front lawn, a scowl deeply set on her face. I rose and waved and tried unsuccessfully to catch her eye. She was deliberately ignoring me. While she took another pass across the lawn and moved toward the back, I coaxed Shogun to come with me. The little dog, whose fur was not unlike an overgrown lawn, was wary of the mower, but trotted along the moment Susan turned away from us. I truly did want to avoid confrontations for the rest of the day, seeing as how forever was decidedly unlikely. Yet I really did want to clear the air between Susan and me, once and for all. If such a thing was possible.
I waited by the junipers for her to make another pass with the mower and come toward me, Shogun sniffing the ground with avid enthusiasm, tracking a squirrel, perhaps.
I waved at Susan as she neared. Her expression didn’t change at the sight of me. Considering how tense things had been when we’d last spoken, this was a good sign. It wouldn’t have been all that far out of character for her to spit at me.
Shogun was tugging against my grip and I crouched down to see what had caught his interest. A patch of pink immediately caught my eye. My heart raced. I’d checked this area fairly thoroughly the day after the murder. How could I have missed this?
I grabbed the now-faded piece of paper, which looked as though it had been soaked with rain or sprinkler water. The paper was soiled and the ink had run so badly that the writing could no longer be deciphered, but as with the note on Edith’s door the day of the murder, it had been written with a black felt-tip pen. This could only be the missing note!
“I found the note!” I cried over the sound of the motor to Susan as she reached me.
“What note?”
“The note from Edith’s door.” I didn’t need, or want, to give any additional explanation.
She rolled her eyes. “Again with the stupid magenta paper? Like I said before, someone else must’ve left the notepad at my parents’ house.”
I nodded, frustrated. Why did this note disappear and then reappear? Was this some kind of a sick game to someone?
“I was thinking of going over and working on your yard after I finish up here. Would that be all right with you and your mom?”
I was surprised by her demeanor. She wasn’t acting hostile or standoffish. It was as though neither her husband nor the police had filled her in about the fact that her secret drug addiction had been divulged. “Sure. That’s fine. But there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Got a minute?”
The mower, though she’d reduced engine power, was still rumbling such that we were forced to raise our voices over the noise. There was no way I wanted to be at a half shout as I brought up the subject of money and her husband’s theory about why she was hoarding cash.
She nodded and called, “Just let me finish this one section.”
While we waited for Susan, Shogun settled into a shady patch of cool sand beneath the bushes. Seeing him there reminded me that I’d never followed through on my desire to restudy those paw prints and see what it was about them that struck me as so familiar. I rounded the juniper hedge and stared at the sandy soil.
Now there were no footprints—canine or otherwise—here. The impressions from my own shoes the day after the murder were gone, as were the paw prints. What was left in the sand were streaks, as if a broom had been dragged across it, wiping out all prints.
There was no way these markings could have occurred naturally. Someone had deliberately wiped out the tracks that were there the other day. Why? Was it possibly to cover up the dog tracks that had perhaps matched those that I’d seen in the blood? And yet, the only people who might have known about the tracks behind the bushes were the Haywoods…and Susan.
“What’s up?” she said to me, raising an eyebrow as she watched me scramble back to my feet. “Looking for an entire stationery supply back there?”
“No, just...trying to figure out how the note could have been blown over there, and how I missed it the first time I looked.”
“Huh. So you said you wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Susan, I don’t like to get involved in a squabble between a husband and a wife, but I also don’t like being a silent partner in a lie. What did you tell your husband about our financial agreement?”
The guilty look on her face gave her away. “Our financial agreement? But I thought we were doing this on trade.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but your husband seems to be under the impression that I’m still working with Boris, and that I’ve been charging you fifty dollars a visit.”
“He is?”
“He certainly is. I’m surprised he didn’t bring this up with you last night.”
“Oh, yeah. I... I was saving up to buy him a birthday present, and that’s the only way I could think of tricking him into giving me the money for it.”
“And you thought it would be all right to possibly damage my reputation by not even having me work with Boris, yet to fool your husband into believing I was charging you.”
“I guess I didn’t think it through.”
“Come on, Susan. Do you really think you’re fooling me?”
She knelt and picked up Shogun. “This dog always reminds me of Toto from The Wizard of Oz,” she murmured.
“Fred seems to be worried that you’re using the money for drugs.”
“Drug money? That’s stupid.” She spoke with confidence, but still seemed to be actively searching for anyplace to look other than directly in my eyes. She let Shogun leap down from her arms.
“I hope so. I’d hate to think of anyone getting messed up on drugs.”
“I did have a problem with it, starting when I was in high school.”
High school? That would be the drug dependency problem her parents felt I’d brought about with my gluing her shoes to their porch.
“I got off the stuff a long time ago. That isn’t what I’m using the money for.”
“A birthday present?” I asked derisively.
She shook her head. “The money is...going toward bailing my parents out of a jam they’re in. My father did some damage at Edith’s store one night. He used to own a business there, you know, and he...thinks he still does sometimes.”
My interest was piqued, but she had a ways to go to convince me that this time she was telling the truth.
She glanced at the window of her parents’ house and lowered her voice. “My dad’s not always lucid. He broke some windows to get in and ruined some of Edith’s merchandise, and we’re trying to keep it quiet. We’re paying her for the damage under the table. You can ask Edith, if you don’t believe me. I’m surprised she’s kept it quiet this long.”
“Is it Alzheimer’s?”
She nodded, her expression grim. “You might as well know the whole thing. See, I don’t know for certain...Dad could’ve picked up that pad from someone’s house. He’s taken to wandering into places an
d grabbing stuff lately. A couple months ago, Cassandra had to call Mom to get him when he was insisting he lived at her house. When we brought him home, Mom found Cassandra’s saltshaker in his pocket.”
“Why didn’t you tell your husband the truth?”
“I didn’t tell Fred because he’d just use it against me. He thinks we should commit my dad, put him in some kind of an institution, but my mom thinks...” She paused and then sighed. “She’s just not ready.”
“I’d like to believe you, Susan, but you seem to have a problem with the truth. Why did you lie to me about your relationship with Cassandra?”
“Allida, I told you. I barely knew the woman.”
“That’s not what your husband told me.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “You talked to him about that? Why?”
“He told me that you and she used to have a monogramming business together.”
In a flash, her demeanor turned stone cold. “Damn you, Allida. You really haven’t wised up at all in all these years, have you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, startled by her sudden outburst.
“What I mean is you’re trespassing! You are sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong! And if you don’t watch out, you’re going to wind up—”She stopped as suddenly as she’d started, then turned her back on me.
“You think I’m going to wind up as a second murder victim, Susan?”
She didn’t answer, but returned to her mower and started up the engine with one furious yank of the cord. Though I stayed for another minute hoping she’d cool down enough to talk to me again, she was not even willing to look at me.
The curtains parted, and Harvey Haywood peered at me. I expected him to frown and perhaps even yell at me to get off his property, but he threw the window open and gave me a close resemblance of a smile. “Ellen, you go tell your sister to come on in now. You two have been out there for hours. You’re going to make yourself sick, being out in the sun this long.”
I didn’t know what else to say, so I gave him a friendly wave and said, “All right I’ll tell Susan what you said.”
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