The Annie Graceland Cupcakes Cozy Mystery Box Set #2: Books 5 - 7

by Pamela DuMond

  A smaller truck pulled up and the driver parked curbside. A man around Annie’s age hopped out, made his way to the passenger side, opened it and said, “Come on, Mozart. It’s a sorry mess inside the new place, but we’re home.”

  A German Shepherd mix dog the size of Toledo (Spain, not Ohio) jumped out, raced off, and lifted his leg on the only tree on our property. I sniffed the air and cringed, not from fear, but the realization I’d smell a hint of dog pee for however long this beast stayed here. Hopefully it was only a brief visit.

  I comforted myself with the mantra, ‘This too shall pass,’ but I must have released a few tiny meows because Annie asked me what was wrong, and then gave me a little nip on my scratchy pad. I rolled on the rug recovering from the stress of the morning when there was a ‘Tap-Tap-Tap’ on our screen door, and the strange man introduced himself. Annie spoke with him briefly, then exited our apartment, and firmly closed the mesh-covered prison barrier in my face so I could not accompany her. She bent down, shook the dog’s paw, and I blinked in confusion. Unfortunately, this was not simply a bad dream.

  The next thing I knew, the debacle, otherwise known as the dog-sitting thing, transpired. Cody, our new neighbor, prevailed upon Annie to let the beast stay in our apartment while he stayed out all night, at his ‘job.’ Right. It was only supposed to be one time, but then it happened again, apparently because the dog suffered anxiety from their recent move.

  I was not pleased.

  I tried to explain to my human that our home was a ‘No Dogs Allowed’ residence and that Hair Product Boss Man would find out and get upset. But my plaintive meows fell on deaf ears, and only earned me a flustered, “How can you be hungry again, I just fed you!” comment.

  Now I deal with Mozart’s frequent violation of my private space and hope for the day that things can return to normal. I pretend to nap peacefully in the sunny spot on the floor, but the wheels spin in my mind as I percolate on the obvious. Things have changed and not for the better.

  I hate to imagine what might happen next.

  Chapter 3

  No Dogs Allowed

  Mozart (The Dog)

  Cody and I drove in the car across the country for a week. I got to see the flatlands of Nebraska; they were super flat. We visited the Rocky Mountain foothills, but I saw no extra feet, and was disappointed. The Grand Canyon was super great! I didn’t understand the fuss about the Painted Desert.

  Now we’re at our new home in Venice Beach, California. I have yet to see the actual beach, but I trust Cody. He says that even though no dogs are allowed, he will sneak me onto the sand when the dog police are not likely to be there. I hope he brings the Frisbee and a tennis ball.

  Our new neighbor, Annie, is nice and smells like freshly baked treats. I don’t think the very hairy cat that lives at her place likes me all that much. I have a nose for these things. There is a strange man who appears out of nowhere and then vanishes into thin air inside her apartment. He wears a tiny bikini bottom, has no scent, walks through walls, looks at himself frequently in the mirrors, and simply won’t stop talking.

  Annie calls him Derrick, Matt Hat, Lief Mealone, and shakes her fist at him frequently. Her cat just eyes him with contempt.

  My name is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but my pals call me Mozart. I am part German Shepherd, don’t know what the other part is, and I am driven to guard my pack. I miss my home in Chicago but I will adapt to this new place as long as I have my Cody. This is the way of a dog. This is a dog’s life.

  Chapter 4

  Consider Yourself Warned

  Annie

  A loud Knock! Knock! Knock! on my front door startled me and I practically poked my eyeball out with my tweezers in front of the bathroom mirror. Theodore jumped off the toilet seat and bolted toward one of his many hiding spots.

  “Who is it?” I hollered, cinched my robe’s sash tighter around my waist, and made my way into the living room.

  “Landlord,” a man said.

  I pulled back the curtain and peered through my window. Anthony Spiggottini leaned against my front door and attempted to reverse peep through the peephole. Dear God, what did he want now?

  I walked the few steps, unlatched the deadbolt and the lock. I cracked the door open, but kept the security chain on, and looked out. “Hi Anthony,” I said. “I gave at the office and I’ve already been saved. What can I do for you today?”

  He poked a paper through the opening. “That’s Mr. Spiggottini to you. Special delivery, Graceland. No dogs allowed on the premises. Consider yourself warned.” He walked away carrying his shiny, black briefcase.

  I scanned the small print on the document with the bold red letters that spelled out “WARNING!” and read, “Renters are not permitted to have dogs live with them on the premises. One cat, name Pompadour, is allowed with an additional security deposit of two hundred dollars. Please initial HERE.” I viewed my scrawled initials, crumpled the paper into a ball, and tossed it onto the floor. Theodore squirmed out from under the couch, pounced on it, and batted it away. “Thanks so very much, Anthony,” I said. “FYI, my cat’s name is Theodore, not Pompadour, and I don’t have a dog.”

  “I know you had a dog in there.” He swiveled mid-step, slid his black, hipster, horn-rimmed glasses from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose, and looked down at me. “I can smell dog. This is a canine-free complex.”

  “Babysitting a pooch for a couple of hours and owning one are two different things.” I quickly wondered how Cody was going to deal with this predicament. He had returned from his gig at three a.m., collected Mozart, and was probably catching some Z’s.

  “I repeat—this is a dog-free building.” Anthony walked away, stepping precisely on the round pavers that led to the curb. “Don’t let me hear about you and the dog again, Graceland. On behalf of Mr. Fartier, I’ll be forced to take action.”

  A vat of anger bubbled from my chest into my throat, and I felt my face flush. “Might I remind you for the last time that I have a feline, Mr. Spiggottini? A cat, not a dog. Feel free to back off and leave us alone.”

  Anthony opened the door to his souped up Camaro that was double-parked next to two cars blocking them in. “Equally disgusting creatures with their creepy grooming habits and incessant meowing. But Mr. Fartier allows felines in his buildings if they are written into your lease agreement. There’s nothing I can do about that unless they violate the property.” He placed his briefcase in the car, slid into the vehicle, rolled down the window, and revved the engine. “Does your cat violate our property, Graceland? Because if he does—you’d better believe I’ll find out. I find out everything.” He peeled off.

  “God, he’s foul!” I slammed the door and turned back to see Theodore staring at me, his eyes wide as saucers. “Halloween’s coming up, Teddy. Maybe I should dress up like a witch and cast a spell on Mr. Slick.” I leaned down and rubbed his chin. “Even better, you can be my familiar, and help me with that. What do you think?”

  Chapter 5

  Monster Claws

  Theodore (The Cat)

  What did I think?

  I percolated on that all day, while Annie was at work, and I lay on the large, well-lit spot on the hardwood floor close to the window. I’d had quite enough of the “dressing up” thing, thank you very much. I also thought that Mr. Slick was loathsome, but he voiced a realistic complaint—there were no dogs allowed in our building. I never dreamed I’d take that man’s side, but I could almost see his point.

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the few hours that the sunlight warmed my body, until it passed over, and disappeared into a crack next to the baseboards on the far side of our room. Venice was, after all, a beach town and in spite of my luxurious coat, I could feel the chill in the air almost immediately.

  The time between when Annie left our home, and when she would most likely return, was tolerable until my friend, Mr. Sunshine, left me all alone in the dark except for the puny glow from a cheap lamp next to the sofa. It felt like second
s had gone by, but at the same time, an eternity had passed.

  I stretched, pushed myself off the hard ground, and trod into the kitchen where Annie had left a small container of kibble on the floor. I stared at it to make sure the “damn ants” as she called them weren’t swarming my bowl, trying to steal my food. (Do you know how difficult it is to remove live ants from your whiskers?)

  Suddenly, twilight’s normal cacophony of car noise was interrupted by harsh sounds of large, jagged, monster claws raking against our screen door. I jumped, but I was not a scare-dy cat, so I pulled it together, and returned to my snack. Excited, deep barks accompanied the scratching and a man said, “Mozart. Stop it. Get over here, now.”

  It was that same, dangerous dog that was getting Annie in trouble, and threatening our home’s safety. I narrowed my eyes, glared at the door, silently cursed the beast, and then returned to eating.

  “Good dog, Mozart, good boy,” Annie said from outside. My heart skipped a beat—she was home. Certainly this meant wet cat food was in my near future. She opened the door, the dog pushed past her, and bounded inside.

  My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I abandoned what remained of my kibble, leapt onto the countertop, skidded into a pad of papers, and a large glass of water. They went flying, but lucky for me, they slowed my trajectory, and brought me to a safe stop. The glass of water bounced on the floor, spraying the dog. Hah! I showed him.

  “Theodore von Pumpernickle,” Annie said. “You’d better be glad that tumbler was plastic.”

  “Mozart.” The man grabbed the beast by its collar. “Bad dog.”

  Odious was more like it. The dog gazed up at me and yelped, its fat tongue quivering in its mouth. What in the world did humans see in these animals? I turned my back to him, licked my paws, and groomed my face.

  Annie grabbed a towel from the kitchen and mopped up the water on the living room floor with her foot. “Cody, what were you thinking moving here with a dog?” she asked. “He’s awesome but do you really want to be fighting with the landlord? In case you haven’t met our apartment manager yet, Anthony Spiggottini can be a bit of an asshat.”

  “I sublet the place from a guy I used to work with,” he said. “I asked him if animals were okay and he said yes. I didn’t check with the landlord because I assumed the dude knew what he was talking about. I gave him three months rent in advance and now he’s in the jungles of Brazil on a shoot.”

  “Crap,” Annie said. “Spiggottini’s on my case because someone alerted him to the pooch. Which means he’ll be harassing you soon, too. The last thing we need around here is for Mr. Creepsters to be mincing his way across the property, peering through more peepholes, looking for trouble.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cody said. “Can I make it up to you?”

  “Hmm,” she said. “Are you single?”

  “Yes.” He eyed my human. “Did you have something in mind?”

  Chapter 6

  Playing Ball

  Mozart (The Dog)

  “No, no,” Annie said. “I’m not asking for me. I was asking for… I meant I’m simply curious.”

  “People never ask that question out of random curiosity,” Cody said. “They usually have something or someone in mind.”

  I spotted Cody taking the tennis ball out of his jacket and my back end wriggled all on its own. I knew what he had in mind; he wanted to ask Annie to play ball with us. I’d been waiting patiently for hours, but I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer, and I barked.

  “Mozart.” Cody pointed his finger at the floor in front of me. “Down. Wait.”

  I tolerated this part of the game and threw myself onto the ground. The faster I did what he said, the quicker we’d get to the good stuff.

  “Nothing in mind,” Annie said. “Just random, getting-to-know-you, neighborly questions.”

  There was a rap on the screen door and I sniffed a heady mix of pheromones, light sweat that smelled like warm earth after a summer rain, and something else yummy… possibly liver treats.

  “Hello,” a woman said and entered the tiny room.

  “Shut the door, Julia,” Annie said. “I don’t want Theodore getting out. And close the curtains. Too many looky-loos this time of night.”

  “I was just in the neighborhood… Oh, sorry, Annie. I didn’t know you had company. I should have called first.” She eyed Cody, closed the door, and then the curtains.

  I stared up at the curvy human goddess, who smelled absolutely delicious, and I couldn’t help but wag my tail. Maybe if I were lucky, she’d accompany us to our ball-throwing session as well. Maybe if I were doubly lucky, she’d cook me a hamburger like the juicy residue of the one that lingered on her jacket. Perhaps she’d even give me one of those liver treats. I raced to her and stuck my nose exactly where I suspected she was hiding them.

  “Oof!” She jumped, petted my head, and backed away.

  But I had a good nose, my breed was determined, and I wasn’t shy about a challenge. So I nudged her again.

  “Oops.” She shoved her hand in front of my snout.

  Cody grabbed my collar and pulled me away. “Sorry,” he said, pointed to me, and then the floor. “Mozart, sit.”

  I did, and gazed up at them expectantly. Maybe he could get her to cough up the liver treats.

  Cody wiped his hand on his pants and then extended his arm to her. “I’m sorry. Mozart’s overly friendly and not all that shy. I’m Cody. You are?”

  “Julia.” She shook his hand. “You’re Annie’s mysterious new neighbor.”

  “Mysterious?” He asked.

  “We were wondering, what kind of guy moves into a place that doesn’t allow dogs, with a very large dog that you can’t really shove under the sofa, or in a closet, or pretend doesn’t exist when the icky apartment manager comes a’knocking.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Cody said. “I was just explaining to Annie that—”

  A harsh Knock! Knock! Knock! banged on the front door. My gaze ricocheted to the entrance and back to Cody.

  “Are you psychic?” he asked Julia.

  “Not me,” she said. “I’m definitely not the psychic one around here.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  “Ahem.” Annie frowned.

  “What does ‘Ahem’ mean?” Cody’s head swiveled.

  “Later,” Annie said. “Who is it?”

  “Anthony Spiggottini,” the male intruder said. “I need to talk with you, now, Graceland. Urgent apartment business.”

  “I’m busy, Anthony. Addendum 24A of the lease states that the landlord’s representative needs to give the tenant advanced warning before stopping by.” Annie snapped her fingers at Julia and jabbed her finger in the direction of her hallway.

  “Not according to Addendum 32B,” Anthony the Would-be Intruder said. “In the case of emergency, the landlord and/or his representative can enter a tenant’s apartment without advance notice or prior consent.” He jiggled the knob.

  “Are you talking to me?” Julia whispered.

  “Yes! All three of you,” Annie hissed. “Go!”

  I gazed into Cody’s eyes and tried to read him. Did I need to protect him? Did I need to rush the door, bark furiously, and scare the intruder away? I would do anything for my human.

  Cody put a finger to his lips and whispered. “No.” The moment crackled with danger.

  When the enormous, hairy feline glared at me and his eyes crossed. “Hack,” he said.

  I sniffed inquisitively in his direction.

  The cat’s face contorted, his ears swiveled backward, and he flattened his spine toward the countertop. “Hack. Hack.”

  “To the bathroom,” Annie said. “Pronto. Turn on the shower. And be quiet.”

  Cody motioned to me, and we hustled with the liver-scented blonde down the short hallway to the bathroom, locked ourselves in, and he turned on the shower. Like the gentleman he was, Cody gestured for Julia to take the only seat in the room. He crouched on the floor next to
me and rubbed my ears. “Odd turn of events,” he said. “But intriguing.”

  “You have no idea,” Julia whispered. “This only scratches the surface.”

  “Color me interested,” Cody said.

  “Bad timing, Anthony,” Annie said from the other side of the door. “My cat’s upset and you need to call before you stop by. This better be a real emergency, or I’ll be forced to contact Mr. Fartier himself if you keep dropping by unannounced. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were interested in dating me. I have a boyfriend, you know. He’s one of L.A.P.D.’s finest, and he’s taking a shower even as we speak.”

  “I insist you let me enter,” he said. “Now.”

  “Fine.” Annie said.

  “What did he say?” Julia whispered.

  Cody shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s muffled.”

  “I smell dog,” the Intruder said more clearly.

  “Hack. Hack. Hack!” The cat exclaimed.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Anthony,” Annie said. “I’m worried about my cat. He’s having an… episode. I think you should go.”

  “Your cat’s fine. I know what I smell, and it’s either a dog… or a rat.”

  “Does Annie’s boyfriend sing in the shower?” Cody whispered.

  “How would I know?” Julia asked.

  Cody warbled, “Let’s get it on,” and winked at her.

  Julia shook her finger. “Don’t you dare get Annie in trouble.”

  Cody grinned. I wagged my tail and was tempted to chime in, but he grabbed my head, pulled me toward him, and snuggled his face into mine. “Quiet, Mozart,” he whispered. “We’ll have time for a duet later.”

  The cat gurgled, made choking sounds, and then uttered one long, low guttural, “Haaaaccckkk,” followed by a loud “Urp.”