“Of course. The Stanbergs and their Norfolk Terriers. What a nasty business that must have been.”
“It turns out they’re not the only ones.”
“Who have Norfolks? Certainly not.”
Trust Aunt Peg to consider the dog connection first.
“No,” I said. “The Stanbergs aren’t the only members of the dog community to be robbed while they were away at a show.”
Aunt Peg shoulders lifted. Her head came up. I had her attention now. “Who else?”
“Raina Gentry, for one. She has Chesapeake Bay Retrievers. Also Elliott Bean and Roger Marx. And the fact that they were at dog shows when their houses were broken into isn’t the only connection.”
“Oh?”
“In at least two of those cases, the thieves knew there would be dogs in the homes when they arrived. And they brought marrow bones with them to distract the dogs while they worked.”
“Marrow bones?” Aunt Peg repeated.
I nodded.
“Both times?”
My head dipped again.
“How very interesting.”
“I thought so,” I said. “And here’s another interesting thing. I’m pretty sure that all the people who were targeted had previously had pet-sitters come to their houses when they were out of town.”
“Pet-sitters?” Aunt Peg’s eyes narrowed. “Like Amanda?”
“Yes. Tamryn too. And they may not have been the only ones involved. And do you know who was helping them find jobs?”
Aunt Peg wasn’t slow on the uptake. “Jasmine Crane,” she said.
“Yup. Now think back to what else Terry said last week. It wasn’t only that the thieves knew about the dogs ahead of time. They also knew that there were valuables in the homes that were well worth stealing. Things like Marv Stanberg’s coin collection or Raina Gentry’s vintage jewelry.”
“Almost as if one of them had already been inside the house and had a good long look around,” Aunt Peg said slowly. “Someone who might have been there by herself overnight, taking care of a few dogs.”
“Bingo,” I said.
Almost immediately Aunt Peg shook her head. “I can’t believe Amanda would have been involved in a scheme like that.”
“Unless she wasn’t entirely aware of what was going on.” I tossed out a possible scenario. “Amanda and Jasmine were friends. They saw each other all the time. Maybe Jasmine would casually inquire about the houses Amanda had been to and what she’d seen. Amanda might have been giving up information without even realizing it.”
Aunt Peg pounced on my explanation with evident relief. “And when she did figure things out, that’s when Amanda decided to disappear.”
I wasn’t as convinced of Amanda’s innocence as Aunt Peg was. But I was happy to let that point slide for now.
“Rick must have been part of it too,” I said. “Either that or he wanted to be, and Jasmine was keeping him at arm’s length. Maybe Amanda let slip what was going on—”
Aunt Peg frowned ferociously. She was still determined to think the best of the young woman to whom she’d entrusted the care of her beloved Poodles.
“Or maybe he found out from Jasmine. It doesn’t really matter how he got involved. But I’m betting that’s what Tamryn was talking about when she said that Rick and Jasmine were in business together. What else could it have been?”
“That’s the question that got you punched,” Aunt Peg said roundly.
Tweaked was more like it, but I let her misconception stand. It made me sound like more of a bad-ass.
“Tamryn also heard Rick threaten Jasmine.”
“Rick appears to be quite proficient at bullying people.” Aunt Peg was not amused. “Why on earth would Amanda want that lout for a boyfriend?”
“Maybe she was afraid to break up with him. Don’t forget what Abby told us. And Amanda wasn’t the only one who was scared of Rick. It seems like nobody wants to make that guy mad, and then have to suffer the consequences.”
“Except perhaps for Jasmine Crane,” Aunt Peg pointed out. “Because we know that she stood up to him at least once.”
My coffee was cooling on the table in front of me. I didn’t even want to pause long enough to take a drink. “But that makes sense when you consider that Jasmine manipulated everyone around her. Of course she’d fight back when Rick tried to do the same to her.”
“And it could have been exactly that response that got her killed.”
We both pondered that.
“We know that Rick was at the dog show when Jasmine died,” I said thoughtfully. “And so was Amanda. Maybe that’s why she disappeared. Maybe when she heard that Jasmine had been killed, she was afraid she knew too much and that Rick might turn on her next.”
“So now what do we do?” Aunt Peg wanted to know. “That all sounds plausible to me, but how do we go about proving it?”
“Let’s start with a phone call,” I proposed. “Can you talk to Raina Gentry and see if she ever used a dog sitter?”
“Of course. I’ll do it right now.”
While Aunt Peg was on the phone to Raina, I checked in with Terry.
“It hasn’t even been a whole day since you told me to ask around,” he grumbled.
“Nobody works faster than you, Terry. I bet you already have something for me, don’t you?”
“Lucky for you, you’re right,” he cooed.
Terry had indeed located another pair of victims. Chris and Susie Bradshaw lived in Pound Ridge and showed French Bulldogs. Their house had been burglarized three months earlier. Previously they’d used a pet-sitter, but after the home invasion, the couple felt more secure with a house that was locked down and guarded by a comprehensive alarm system.
“Don’t forget you owe me one,” Terry said at the end.
“Never,” I replied with a laugh. “Especially since I’m sure you’ll enjoy collecting.”
When Aunt Peg and I were both off the phone, we shared what we’d learned. Raina Gentry had only used a dog-sitter once—a girl named Meg, who’d been recommended to her by Jasmine Crane. But that one time had apparently been enough to make her a target.
“That’s the third girl we know of,” I said. “And maybe there were more. Jasmine must have had quite the operation.”
“Apparently she was more talented than any of us realized,” Aunt Peg agreed unhappily. “We don’t have all the answers yet, but we have quite a few. It’s time for you to take this information to the police.”
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought of that myself.
“Your suggestion would be an excellent idea except for one thing,” I said. “Which police should I talk to? Jasmine was killed in eastern Connecticut. Amanda disappeared from Weston. The robberies that we know of happened in Rye, Pound Ridge, Trumbull, and wherever Raina lives—”
“Hamden,” Aunt Peg supplied.
Which was no help at all. “That’s exactly what I mean. The events took place all over the map. The only thing they all have in common is the connection to the dog show circuit.”
“If you had told me that you were going to talk for this long, I’d have stayed home and done my homework,” Davey complained as he appeared in the doorway.
Four black Poodles eddied around his legs. The remaining dog, Beau, walked past him and entered the kitchen. He walked over to the water bowl and had a long drink. Then he flopped down on a nearby bed.
“See?” said Davey. “Even Beau is bored.”
Aunt Peg and I had talked ourselves straight into a dead end. We were both ready to do something else.
“You’re quite right. It’s time for us to take a break.” Aunt Peg hopped to her feet. “And look, the clouds have even parted for us. Let’s go outside and have a handling lesson.”
She shouldn’t have called it a lesson, I thought. Davey had already endured enough handling lessons from Aunt Peg. He would balk at that.
She must have been reading my mind because she quickly amended her invitation. “Mind you, the
lesson is for Coral. Not you, Davey. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.”
My son smiled at that. When Aunt Peg handed him a chain collar on a narrow lead he happily slipped the loop over Coral’s head. Jasmine Crane wasn’t the only one who knew how to bend boys and men to her will.
We took Coral outside to Aunt Peg’s spacious backyard. The rest of the Poodle group tagged along. Even Beau, who’d seen everything, decided that this was going to be something worth watching.
“Set her up over there.” Aunt Peg indicated a level, sunny spot. “Pretend I’m your judge.”
As if anyone ever would have assumed otherwise.
Davey walked Coral into an almost correct stance. As he reached out to reset her hind feet, Zeke, Hope, and Willow swarmed around them. Immediately Coral began to wiggle in place. If the other Poodles were going to play, the puppy wanted to join them.
Augie’s basic show ring education had taken place two years earlier. So it had been a long time since Davey’d had to deal with a Poodle who didn’t already have her training down cold. Which was probably the lesson that Aunt Peg intended to teach him.
Davey reset Coral’s feet a second time. Then a third. Hope and Willow moved on. Now they were sniffing around the edge of the lawn. Coral looked after them longingly. Davey repositioned the puppy’s feet again, but by now he’d totally lost her attention.
The puppy bounced up in the air like a spring. Davey grimaced. He looked over at Aunt Peg in frustration.
“That’s not fair,” he said.
“What’s not fair?” she asked innocently.
“Them.” Davey indicated the wandering Poodles. Beau, sitting in the grass no more than five feet away, gave him a doggy grin. “Coral won’t listen to me while they’re here. They’re too much of a distraction.”
“Oh? So there aren’t any distractions at dog shows? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No. But—”
“Perhaps you’d rather choose your own distractions then? Maybe a flock of geese or a marching band?” Aunt Peg paused and pretended to think. “Although where I might procure either one on short notice is a bit problematic.”
Davey smiled reluctantly. He reached down and gave Coral a pat. Even Zeke had moved on by now. He was examining a nearby tree. The puppy was finally beginning to settle.
“And that’s why I provided you with a few home-grown distractions instead,” Aunt Peg finished.
“But these guys are her best friends. Of course she wants to play with them.”
“Dogs she sees every day are much less enticing than ones she’s never met before,” Aunt Peg pointed out. “Which includes virtually every other Poodle Coral is going to show against.”
“That’s different,” Davey blurted out.
“Is it? How?”
Smart boy, Davey didn’t even try to defend that indefensible position. Instead he turned his attention back to Coral. And, more importantly, he got her attention back on him. He walked her forward several steps, spun her back in a small circle, then set her up again.
This time, the puppy was listening. With only one small bobble, he quickly managed a very creditable stack. Aunt Peg stared at the pair critically for a long minute.
She was waiting for handler and puppy to break their concentration. To Davey’s credit neither one did.
Aunt Peg approached Coral from the front. She held out her hand for the puppy to sniff. Coral wagged her tail madly in reply. Hi, Mom! When she started to wiggle again, Davey deftly smoothed her back into place.
That was well done.
For this first attempt, Aunt Peg made short work of her physical examination. Then she got Davey and Coral moving. The two of them were great at that. Davey’s loose-limbed energy was a great compliment to the puppy’s long, elegant stride.
Even Aunt Peg couldn’t find anything to criticize.
Five minutes later, the lesson was over. Davey removed Coral’s collar and leash, and released the puppy to play with her friends.
Watching her race across the yard, Aunt Peg said, “That was a bit of all right. Of course, the two of you will still need some work before you become a proper team. But I definitely see potential there. I believe you passed the audition.”
I snorted under my breath. Davey’s head whipped around.
When he spoke, his voice sounded huffy. “You asked me to show Coral for you. You didn’t tell me there was going to be an audition.”
“As I recall, you didn’t ask.”
“Well, luckily for you,” he replied, “you passed the audition too.”
Aunt Peg’s eyes narrowed. She stared down her nose at him. In another few years, he would be as tall as she was, but for now the gesture was still effective. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Davey crossed the small space between them and held out his hand. “Partners?”
She hesitated. Then I saw the moment that Aunt Peg’s surprise at the gesture turned to grudging respect. She extended her hand too.
“Partners,” she agreed.
I’d never gotten Aunt Peg to acknowledge me in that way, I realized. Then again, maybe I’d never demanded it. It occurred to me that I’d raised a pretty savvy kid.
Davey had agreed to show Coral, but Aunt Peg wasn’t going to be allowed to pressure him, or push him around, as she’d done previously. Good for him for setting the ground rules for their alliance right up front.
“I have a brilliant idea,” Aunt Peg said as we were all walking back into the house. “I’m going to get in touch with Amanda.”
I looked at her in surprise. “How?”
“By text, of course. That seems to be her preferred mode of communication.”
“Amanda isn’t answering Abby’s texts. What makes you think she might respond to yours?”
“Because I’m going to tell her that we’ve figured out what’s going on.”
I paused to pull open the door, cocked my head to one side, and said, “Have we?”
“Well, obviously not all of it. But Amanda doesn’t have to know that. When she comes back, she can fill us in on the rest. It will all work out rather neatly.”
If it happened, I thought. Although when Aunt Peg took charge, unexpected things often came to pass. Why should this time be any different?
Even so, I shook my head. “Amanda clearly thinks she has a good reason for staying away. How do you intend to change her mind?”
“I’ll let her know we’re aware that she left because she was afraid of Rick. And I’ll promise to protect her from him.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll think of something,” Aunt Peg said blithely. “I always do.”
The last of the Poodles scampered through the doorway and I closed the door behind us. “Like what?”
“Perhaps Amanda would like to move in with me for a few days, just until we get things sorted out.”
“In here?” I couldn’t imagine any vivacious twenty-something girl wanting Aunt Peg for a roommate. Even for a few days.
“Why not? She’s stayed here on numerous occasions when she was dog-sitting for me. This will be just the same.”
“Except that you’ll be here.”
Aunt Peg rolled her eyes. “Of course I’ll be here. That’s the whole point. Otherwise how can I keep an eye on her and make sure she stays safe?”
“Of course,” I echoed faintly. I was fresh out of objections. If Aunt Peg could make that plan work, more power to her. “While you’re working on bringing Amanda back, I think I’m going to go talk to Detective Young.”
“He works for the Greenwich police. And as far as we know, Greenwich is one of the few towns in the state where Jasmine wasn’t hatching some nefarious scheme. How will he be able to help?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But at least he and I have a relationship of sorts.”
The detective and I had first crossed paths when he was seeking the man who’d killed a Santa Claus impersonator. And then again when a
millionaire philanthropist had been murdered in his own home. Both times I’d been on the spot—or near enough—when the deed happened. Even so, the detective hadn’t taken kindly to my involvement in his investigation.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers, I reminded myself. Besides, all I intended to do was ask him to point me in the direction of the right person to contact.
Davey was sitting on the floor, playing with the Poodles. Now he stood up and frowned. “You people are still boring.”
“I can fix that,” Aunt Peg replied cheerfully. “Who’s ready for cake?”
Chapter 20
It was Sunday, so I had to wait until the following afternoon to see Detective Young. In the meantime, I went to work. I started the school day in Russell Hanover’s office.
On Friday after speaking with Francesca, I’d attempted to make an appointment with the headmaster. His secretary, Harriet, guarded access to the Big Man with all the fervor of a miser dispensing gold coins. She had—over my objections—penciled me in for early May.
That wouldn’t do at all.
When Harriet arrived at seven-thirty on Monday morning, I was already sitting in a chair right next to Mr. Hanover’s office door. The secretary’s small frown was the only sign of her disapproval. Then she ignored me and went on with her morning routine.
By the time the headmaster rolled in twenty minutes later, I had scooted the chair even closer. Now I was blocking the heavy oak door to Mr. Hanover’s domain. He had no choice but to stop and talk to me.
Russell Hanover II was a man well aware of his position at the top of our pecking order. He was tall, austere, and always impeccably dressed. Every bit as intelligent and sophisticated as the parents who placed their children in his care, the headmaster cultivated a stern, almost frosty, demeanor. Supposedly it was intended to inspire those around him to never give anything but their best.
I know it scared the crap out of me.
“Good morning, Ms. Travis,” Mr. Hanover said. “You’re here early.”
Not the best way to begin. I’d hoped he hadn’t noticed those times Faith and I had come sliding in just before second bell.
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