The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice

by Alex Erickson

  “Really?” I asked. “Is there any truth to those rumors?”

  She shrugged as she picked up the container of tea and returned it to the fridge. “I honestly couldn’t say. If Timothy was hiding money, I’ve never seen it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was. He didn’t trust banks, or anyone else for that matter. But if he did have a stash hidden around here, I wouldn’t put it past Junior to come sniffing around for it.”

  I wondered if that was why he was here, and I didn’t just mean today.

  I took a long drink of my tea as I thought it over.

  Junior didn’t appear to get along with his dad, yet he was here in Grey Falls anyway. Maybe he was here to see Timothy off to the home, but what if he was after the old man’s money? He heard the rumor, decided he deserved the payout, but knew that if the house was sold, whoever purchased it would be in control of the cash—if they ever found it.

  So, he pretends to leave after their fight, follows Timothy out to the barn, and then kills him.

  But would he really kill his own father just to get at some money? Seeing how he treated everyone else, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

  “I really should get going,” Meredith said. “I came here to pick up Stewie when Junior showed up. The poor dear was crated in Mr. Fuller’s room after the murder. The police told me it would be okay if I took him to watch over him while they sorted this mess out.”

  “I guess Junior figured it was his right to do the same.” Though why he would, I didn’t know. I didn’t believe for one second he cared about the dog, or thought of him as a memento of his dad’s memory.

  Meredith gave me a look that echoed my own thoughts. There had to be ulterior motives in play here.

  I followed Meredith to the front door and outside. She locked the door, checked it twice, and then turned to me. “You need to fight for that dog,” she said. “I keep saying Mr. Fuller didn’t care for anyone, yet he loved his dog more than life itself. Don’t let Junior keep him.”

  “I’ll do my best.” And I meant it. I had no intention of letting Junior walk off with an animal he clearly despised.

  But it did make me wonder; why did he take him at all? It didn’t make sense, especially after this morning, when he’d told me he wanted nothing to do with the Pomeranian.

  “And I’m sorry about your son,” Meredith said, fishing in her purse for her keys. “He seemed like a nice enough guy.”

  “He didn’t kill Timothy,” I said, needing to say it, if not for her, then for me.

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Meredith said. “When I saw him afterward, he didn’t look like someone who’d just killed a man. He looked worried, and was looking to help.”

  “He would do that,” I said. Could that have been how he got blood on his shirt? If he tried to resuscitate Timothy, he would have had to touch him. It’s easy enough to imagine him getting blood on his hands while performing CPR and then wiping them on his shirt afterward.

  Of course, Ben said he didn’t go into the house; the police stopped him. Perhaps he was scared to admit he’d gone in earlier and tried to help? Or maybe he blacked out and forgot all about trying to save Timothy Fuller.

  I was grasping, but knew there had to be a reason for the blood on his shirt, other than Ben killing Timothy.

  Meredith reached out and squeezed my arm, before heading to her car. She got inside, waved, and then drove off, leaving me the last person at the house. Even the car next door was gone, telling me Jason and Selena had finally left to meet with their friends.

  My motherly instincts were screaming at me to do something more, to go back into the house and look around for anything that might help Ben, but I realized if something had once been there, the police would have already taken it.

  With nothing left to do, I went to my van. It wasn’t my place to snoop around. I’d done what I could, and it wasn’t enough. I had to hope the police found enough evidence to set Ben free.

  I got behind the wheel, and finally headed for home.

  10

  Dinner was on, and nearly ready, by the time I returned home. Manny was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of vegetable soup, a faraway look on his face. I kissed him on the cheek and it seemed to break him out of his reflections.

  “Hi, hon,” he said, sounding almost dreamy. “Ready to eat?”

  I wasn’t the slightest bit hungry, but nodded. “Where’s Amelia?”

  “Her room.” Manny moved to the cupboard and retrieved the bowls. “She wanted to get some homework done. Hey, Wheels.”

  The cat in question rubbed her head against Manny’s ankle, and then rolled over to her dish, giving him a sad look, despite the fact there was food there—it was just pushed to the edges so there was a hole in the center. As far as Wheels was concerned, that meant it was empty.

  Cat logic.

  As Manny poured her some dry, I headed to our bedroom, where I swapped out my hairy shirt with a clean one. I took a few minutes to steel myself against the idea of eating dinner without Ben, and then I crossed the hall and knocked on Amelia’s door. When she didn’t answer, I opened it a crack and peered in.

  “Dinner’s ready,” I said.

  Amelia was sitting on the bed, her cell phone pressed to her chest. She looked guilty of something—eyes wide, breathing hard—when she nodded. “I’ll be right down.”

  I hesitated only an instant before closing the door. Something was up with her, but I had a feeling it was far less life altering than what Ben was going through. Or, at least, I hoped it was. Maybe Ben was right, and it’s a new boyfriend. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to hide one from us.

  I headed back downstairs, memories flooding in. Amelia’s last boyfriend had been five years older than her, prone to forgetting what he was doing—in the middle of doing it—and had the IQ of a rock. I’m not sure where she’d found him because he was definitely not college material. He hadn’t lasted long, for which I was grateful. I hoped Amelia had learned a lesson from that brief fling and was making better decisions now.

  The food was on the table when I returned, with Manny sitting in his usual place, staring at the empty chair where Ben normally sat. I’d just taken my own seat when Amelia came bounding down the stairs.

  “How was your day?” I asked her, wondering if she even knew about Ben. I hadn’t talked to her, and if Manny hadn’t filled her in, she might not yet realize why her brother wasn’t sitting at the table with us.

  “Fine, I guess,” she said, and then, easing my worries about having to tell her what happened, she added, “Better than Ben’s.” She scowled at her bowl.

  “Ben will be okay,” Manny said. “We all will.”

  Amelia’s scowl didn’t ease. She brushed her blue-tipped hair out of her face and started eating. Each bite was taken with force, as if she were angry at the stew for Ben’s predicament.

  I watched her nervously a moment before asking, “Did your father tell you about him?” I glanced at Manny, who nodded.

  “He did, but I’d heard about it earlier. Some detective came to see me at school. Guy had them take me right out of class, in front of everyone. I’m not in high school anymore, and it was an aide that got me, but people talk, you know? They all probably think I’m into something illegal by now.”

  “Was it Detective Cavanaugh?” I asked, temper flaring. He shouldn’t have gone to see my daughter in school. Granted, she was an adult. And it was a college, not high school. But still, I felt I should have been informed.

  “I think so. He asked me some questions and then left. Was no big deal.” She stirred her vegetables around, but didn’t take another bite. She dropped her spoon and sat back. “How did this happen?”

  “We don’t know, honey,” Manny said.

  “He was with someone at the time of the murder,” I said. “Don’t worry yourself too much about him. I’m sure she’ll vouch for him when the time comes.” Though after my conversation with Selena Shriver, I wasn’t so sure about that.

>   Amelia snorted. “He was with a girl, huh? I’m not surprised.”

  I chose not to speak my mind on the matter. Ben was a grown man. He could do what he pleased when it came to women, though as his mother, I didn’t have to like it.

  Instead of talking about Ben’s questionable dating habits, I changed the subject to something I could deal with. “Ben said you left for school early today. Did you have a big test?”

  Amelia’s eyes flickered to me, and then to Manny. “No, I just wanted to get an early start.”

  “He thinks you might have a new boyfriend,” Manny said, leaning forward and smiling. “Any truth to the rumor? Or can we lay that one to rest?”

  “No boyfriends,” Amelia said, blushing. “I was just anxious to get moving this morning, okay? It’s no big deal.”

  Noting her tone, I nodded. There was no reason to press when we were all already stressed enough. “Okay. I was just wondering. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “Good.” Amelia picked up her spoon, but didn’t eat, just pushed her veggies absently around the bowl.

  It seemed none of us knew how to deal with the day’s developments. I was worried about Ben, about Amelia, but didn’t know how to voice my concerns without sounding like a patronizing parent. Manny looked listless. I guess the reality had finally sunk in, and even he couldn’t keep a positive attitude.

  “I’m done,” Amelia said, pushing her half-full bowl away. “I’m going to go upstairs and study.”

  “Have fun,” Manny said. I think he tried to make it a joke, but it came out sounding flat.

  Amelia rolled her eyes and rose. She was halfway to the stairs before I stopped her.

  “Hey, Amelia.”

  She turned and gave me a stubborn look, as if she expected me to continue to grill her about her whereabouts earlier.

  “I love you.”

  She opened her mouth, blinked, and then said, “Love you too,” before she bounded up the stairs and vanished into her room.

  “That was nice,” Manny said. “I think she needed to hear that.”

  “Yeah,” I said, staring after her. I turned back to Manny. “Does she seem off to you?” Amelia had never been the easiest child to deal with, but she’d never been so, I don’t know, sullen.

  “It’s been a rough day for all of us.”

  “It has,” I said with a weary sigh. “I talked to some more people today. I’m getting the impression that Timothy Fuller was a pretty nasty man. His son’s not much better. I’m starting to wonder if maybe he killed his own father for his money.”

  “Now, Liz,” Manny said, pushing his half-eaten meal away. “Be careful. You shouldn’t be talking to these people. Lester said he’d do what he could for Ben, and I think we should let him do his job.”

  “I can’t help it, Manny,” I said. “It’s Ben. And even if he wasn’t currently sitting in a jail cell for a murder he didn’t commit, there’s Stewie to think about. Junior took him today. I don’t think he’s going to provide a very good home for the dog.”

  “It’ll work out.”

  Oh, how I wished I could be as positive as Manny. With the way my day had gone, it was hard to see the bright side of anything.

  We finished up our meal, neither of us able to finish our bowls. Manny started in on the dishes, as I went about cleaning up. I kept wondering what exactly Detective Cavanaugh had talked to Amelia about. Did he know more than I did? Could he actually think she had something to do with the murder, even though she wasn’t there?

  Or was he just following up whatever lead he could, talking to the families of both the victim and the accused? I had no idea how any of this worked, which only made me feel that much worse. How was I supposed to relax when I didn’t even know if the detective on the case was focusing on the right people?

  I’d just finished putting the leftovers in the fridge when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it might be the detective in question, I hurried to answer, ready to give him a piece of my mind—and maybe, to see if he could give me some actual good news.

  I opened the door, but before I could so much as say, “Hello,” Evelyn Passwater pushed past me.

  “What a crazy day!” she said. “I heard about what happened. I can’t believe it.”

  “How are you holding up?” Deidra Kissinger added, as she stepped in behind Evelyn. She gave me a brief hug.

  “She’s fine.” Holly Trudeau brought up the rear. She closed the door behind her as she entered. “Liz is strong. Hi, Manny.”

  “Hi, ladies,” Manny said, an amused lilt to his voice. “I’m all done here. I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Good man,” Deidra said. “Leave the ladies to their fun and games.”

  Manny bowed, and then gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room. He never liked to stick around when my friends showed up, claiming he was afraid of what we might say about him while he was there. I’d think he’d be more worried about what we’d say when he wasn’t around, but that’s men for you.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hurrying over to the table and wiping it down. “I completely forgot you were coming tonight. I don’t know where my head’s at.”

  “It’s no wonder,” Evelyn said. She was the oldest of the group, coming in at a healthy sixty-five. I’d met her when she wanted to adopt a dog, and had come to me because she wanted one who needed her as much as she needed him. “I half expected you to call and cancel.”

  “Which we wouldn’t have allowed,” Deidra said. She was my age, fit and thin. Her hair was dark, cut short so it curled around her chin. She was another previous adopter who I’d kept in contact with.

  “Let me do that,” Holly said, taking the rag from me. She was the youngest of the group, just recently hitting her thirties. She was married to Ray Trudeau, one of the vets who worked at the office with Manny. He was almost ten years older than her, but it never seemed odd that they’d gotten together.

  I left the women to get settled and found the Scrabble board. We met on the first Wednesday of every month and played. It wasn’t like me to forget something like that, but with everything that had happened, I could be forgiven.

  I carried the board to the table and went about setting it up. Holly had already broken into the wine she always brought with her. She’d poured everyone a glass, including me. I noted she’d filled my glass nearly to the top. She probably thought I needed it.

  “I don’t believe for one minute Benjamin had anything to do with that man’s death,” Deidra said, taking her tile rack when I offered it to her. “You should go to the police and demand they release him this instant!”

  “I already talked to them,” I said. “They have a witness placing him at the scene, which is probably why they’re holding him.”

  “Baloney,” Evelyn said. She drew her tiles and beamed at what she got. “I’m surprised it took someone this long to knock off Timothy Fuller. If anyone deserved to end up with a knife in his back, it was him.”

  I drew my own tiles as I mulled it over. I groaned inwardly when I noted a multitude of Us. “It’s been rough,” I said, watching as play moved my way. There wasn’t much I could do on my turn, so I placed an X to form “ax” and “ox.”

  “Hate moves like that,” Evelyn said. “Can’t expand the board that way.”

  “Quit complaining,” Deidra said. “You’ll win anyway.”

  “Darn tooting, I will,” Evelyn said, emptying her rack and cackling as she began tallying her points.

  Groans went around the table.

  “How is Manny doing?” Holly asked. “Ray didn’t get to talk to him today, other than in passing.”

  “He’s okay, I guess. We’re just sort of waiting to see what happens.”

  “Why?” Deidra asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why wait around? Go make some noise. Don’t let them make Ben out to be a killer.”

  Just hearing it, caused me to shudder. “I don’t know what else I can do,” I said. “We’ve
contacted our attorney and I went and talked to some people, but their stories are all pretty consistent.” And then, remembering what Meredith had said, I asked, “Have any of you heard anything about Timothy Fuller having a stash of money hidden away?”

  Both Holly and Deidra shook their heads. Evelyn, on the other hand, looked contemplative as she rearranged her fresh set of tiles.

  “Evelyn?” I asked when she didn’t respond right away. “Do you know something?”

  Play had stopped while we watched her. She continued to fiddle with her tiles a moment, before finally answering.

  “I used to know Timothy better than most, I guess,” she said, eyes darting around the table, not meeting any of our own.

  “Better how?” Holly asked.

  “We had . . . relations.” Evelyn scowled at us, dared us to laugh. When we didn’t, she went on. “It was years ago. Hell, a lifetime ago, really. I was eighteen, he was in his twenties. We went out for a few months, and then I broke it off. End of story.”

  “What was he like back then?” I asked, intrigued.

  “A righteous jerk,” Evelyn said. “Even back then, he only cared about himself. Never bought me a thing. If we went out for ice cream, I paid for my own. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it either. He had a good job, family had money.”

  “Thought he was better than everyone else,” Deidra said.

  “That he did,” Evelyn agreed.

  “Did he hide money back then?” I asked, thinking back to Timothy’s house. Everything had looked old, rundown. If he had money, he must have either lost it, or it had all been eaten up in medical bills. I wouldn’t have been surprised either way.

  “That’s the thing,” Evelyn said. “I knew he did, saw him do it once.”

  “Really?” Holly asked. “How did he handle that?”

  “How do you think?” Evelyn smacked the table with the flat of her hand. “He screamed and hollered at me for a near hour about respecting his privacy. He was hiding the money in a loose board in his living room, right out in the open where anyone could walk in on him. I asked him why he bothered, and he just told me it was none of my dang business. When I came over the next day, the board was nailed down tight. I assumed he moved the money after my intrusion.”