The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice

by Alex Erickson

  “Does he still live in the same house as he did back then?” I asked.

  Evelyn shook her head. “Was forced to move after a bad storm about fifteen years back. Tree took out the roof and everything inside was lost. He could have fixed it back up, but decided to move on instead. This was years after we parted, so I wasn’t privy to his decision making.”

  So, it sounded like Meredith had been right. Or, at least, she had been at one time. Could the rumors of his hidden stash be remnants of Evelyn’s story? He might have spent it all by now. Or was he still saving up, year after year? We’re talking nearly fifty years of savings if that was the case. It could very well be a nice and tidy sum.

  But was it one big enough to kill over?

  “Well, that’s all I’ve got to say about Timothy Fuller,” Evelyn said. “And I think it might be a good idea if we forget the entire mess for a night.”

  “I agree,” Deidra said. “You could use a relaxing night, Liz.”

  “Here, here,” Holly added, topping off my glass, even though I’d only had a sip.

  I thanked her absently, mind still turning over what I’d learned. Whether or not Timothy was really still hiding money was immaterial. The fact that people thought he was, could be enough motive for murder.

  “Now, if it’s all the same to everyone else,” Evelyn said, a confident grin on her face. “I’d like to start playing again. I’ve got me a game to win!”

  11

  Manny was already gone by the time I woke up the next morning. My head was pounding slightly after I’d had a little too much wine. As expected, Evelyn handily won every game of Scrabble we played, but I was okay with that. I hadn’t been at my best, though I was starting to wonder if it was time we switched it up and found something she wasn’t so good at to play.

  I took a shower, and then got dressed in another of my Furever Pets shirts. As much as I would prefer to find a way to help Ben, I had other things I needed to be doing. It wasn’t like I was helping anything by constantly asking questions. That was a job for Detective Cavanaugh, not me.

  Amelia was leaning into the fridge, rooting around when I entered the kitchen. Wheels was at her feet, making short trills as she begged for scraps.

  “I’m surprised you’re up this early,” I said, checking the coffee pot to find it still hot. I poured myself a mug and leaned against the counter.

  “I was thinking of getting out for a bit,” she said, closing the fridge, arms laden. She’d put together an egg sandwich and took a big bite. Manny didn’t always fry up an egg for everyone before he left in the morning, but I was glad he did today.

  I went to the fridge to make my own sandwich. “No class today, right?” I asked.

  “Right.”

  “Meeting anyone?”

  Amelia eyed me warily. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” I said. I found the cooked egg, slapped it on a piece of bread, added cheese, and a slice of tomato. I considered mayonnaise, but decided against it.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with last night, does it?” Amelia asked.

  “Nope.” I took a bite, chewed. “But with what happened to Ben, I’m allowed to be worried about you.”

  “There’s no need to be worried about me, Mom. I can take care of myself.”

  “I never said you couldn’t.”

  But it was already too late. I’d lost her.

  Amelia picked up her backpack and tossed it over one shoulder. “I’m out of here,” she said. “I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” With her egg sandwich in one hand, she walked out the front door, slamming it closed with a little more force than was necessary.

  “Good one, Liz.” I heaved a sigh and finished off my breakfast, though by now, it didn’t taste quite so good. No one told me parenting would only get harder as the kids got older. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.

  “Where did I go wrong?” I asked Wheels, who was watching me with interest. When I showed her my empty hands, she wheeled over for a petting, which she took with much purring.

  “Sorry,” I said, after a few comforting strokes. “I’ve got some things to do today.”

  Wheels followed me down the hall, to the door where Toby and Leroy were locked away. They must have heard our approach, because as soon as my hand touched the doorknob, they started barking up a storm.

  “Quiet,” I said, opening the door and stepping inside. Leroy caught sight of Wheels, who was still sitting outside, and made an awkward leap her way. I closed the door before he could get out, though I did note, Wheels didn’t so much as flinch at his lunge.

  “No kitty snacks for you,” I told the dog, who began howling at the door. I rubbed him behind the ears, which in turn, caused Toby to come over for a rub of his own. At least then, both dogs quieted down.

  Today was the day I was supposed to drop both Leroy and Toby off at their new homes. Sometimes, the new pet parents came to my house to pick up their animals, sometimes it happened at the locally owned pet store I frequented. But today, I was delivering them myself. Mr. and Mrs. Keane were older, and both of them suffered from arthritis, much like Leroy. The dogs would work as a sort of therapy for the couple, and I’m sure the humans would be the same for the beagles.

  Still, I was sad to see them go. It was never easy caring for an animal, only to give it up after a week or two.

  I was in the process of laying soft towels in the bottom of the dog carriers when a pounding echoed throughout the house. Both Leroy and Toby started baying at the top of their lungs in response.

  I hurried out of the room, making sure the dogs didn’t follow, as the pounding came again. Wheels was gone, likely hiding under a table somewhere, considering the cacophony. The third round of pounding came just as I reached the door, which rattled in its frame by the force of the knocking.

  “I’m coming,” I said, even as I jerked open the door.

  “You’ve got to do something about those dogs!” Joanne Bandon was shouting even before I had the door open all the way. “No one can sleep in this neighborhood with them making such a racket all of the time.”

  “Joanne,” I said, suppressing an urge to groan her name. “I’m sorry if they’re too loud. I’m prepping them to leave now. They’ll be gone within the hour.”

  “Oh.” Joanne’s short, curly hair was dyed an odd shade of brown that didn’t quite go with her features. She was wearing a tracksuit, though I knew for a fact she hadn’t run anywhere in the last fifteen years. She had a fondness for donuts, and an aversion to exercise, which, to be honest, I could empathize with.

  She’d been my neighbor since the day Manny and I had moved in. At first, she was friendly enough, but soon after the first year, the complaints started. I’d thought that maybe it was something I’d done, but after talking with the other neighbors, I learned it was just the way she was.

  “I promise it’ll be quieter soon,” I said. “I really should get back to them.” I started to close the door.

  Her foot darted forward, just barely making it into the crack before the door shut all the way. “Then when are you going to do something about that eyesore out front?” she asked, jerking a thumb toward my van. “Just having it there gives me an ulcer. No one else leaves their work vehicles parked out front.”

  No one else complains either, I thought, but decided to keep that to myself.

  “I’m sorry if you don’t like it,” I said, gritting my teeth. “But I need it to transport the animals. If we are able to afford it, we’ll be adding a garage in the next year or two, and then you won’t have to look at it anymore.” Manny and I had talked about it, but honestly, it wasn’t bothering anyone but Joanne.

  “In the next year or two?” She made a horrified face. “You could always park down the street a ways.”

  By “a ways,” I was pretty sure she meant the next street over. “I’ll think about it,” I said, not wanting to argue with her. If I started an argument with Joanne Bandon, it was likely I’d ne
ver get out of it—in this lifetime nor the next.

  “You do that.”

  I stared at her expectantly. Her foot was still blocking the door, and I did have some dogs to take care of. “Do you need something else?” I asked, not bothering to hide my impatience.

  “Well . . .” She looked past me, into the house, as if looking for something. She bit her lower lip and patted at her curls.

  “I’m very busy today, Joanne,” I said. “It’s been a rough couple of days, so if there’s nothing else, I’d really like to finish up here.” The dogs had stopped barking, but I knew it was only a matter of time before they started up again.

  “It’s just that . . .” She frowned, produced a handkerchief from the pocket of her tracksuit. She patted at her forehead with it. It came away with a healthy smear of foundation. What did she do, bathe in the stuff?

  “Just that . . . ?” I prodded.

  “Ben,” she said, withdrawing her foot. “I heard about what happened.”

  The urge to slam the door and walk away was strong, but I decided to play nice for now. Anger her now, and I wouldn’t put it past her to start calling the police every time she heard me sneeze.

  Joanne shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable by the topic, even though she was the one who’d brought it up. “I’m sorry to hear about it, is all. I don’t think he is capable of such a thing, not like your—”

  “Joanne,” I warned. If she so much as insinuated Amelia was the type who was capable of killing someone, Detective Cavanaugh would be investigating another murder, one that would be taking place right here on my doorstep.

  She fluttered her handkerchief, seemingly flustered. “No, what I mean to say is, I think he’s innocent.” Her eyes met mine briefly before she looked away. “I’m not surprised someone offed that man, to be honest.”

  “You’re not the first person who’s said something similar.” Which didn’t help matters much. If Timothy Fuller rubbed everyone the wrong way, who was to say he hadn’t done or said something to Ben that caused him to snap.

  I, of course, knew it wasn’t possible. Ben wasn’t someone who angered easily. But Detective Cavanaugh didn’t know that. Not yet, anyway.

  “I bet it was his nurse,” Joanne said with a sharp nod. “I’m almost positive it had to be.”

  Interested despite myself, I opened the door farther. “Why do you say that?”

  Joanne stepped closer, taking my interest for invitation. I remained in the doorway, keeping her from entering the house. “I saw them at the market just last week,” she said, easing back, resigned to stand outside. “They were shopping for oranges, I believe. Timothy kept grabbing them and dropping them on the floor. And I think it was on purpose.”

  Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. “I’m not sure how that leads to Meredith killing him, Joanne.”

  “Meredith?” Joanne asked. “Who in blazes are you talking about?”

  “Meredith? His nurse?”

  She fluttered her handkerchief again. “I never knew her name,” she said. “Not sure it really matters, does it?”

  “I guess not,” I said, suppressing a sigh.

  “Anyway, the nurse tried to stop him from dropping the oranges all over the store, and he started wailing like she was beating him. I swear he acted like she was trying to murder him right in the store. She stopped grabbing at his hands, and instead, started cleaning up. When she bent over to pick up what he’d dropped, he hauled off and shoved her right over. Pushed her right on the keister, he did.”

  “He abused her?” I asked, eyes wide. “In public like that?”

  “That was the only time I saw them together like that, but I’ve heard that sort of thing was a regular occurrence with them. I don’t understand how that woman ever put up with him, to be honest. He must have been paying her real good for her to have stayed for as long as she did.”

  My mind immediately went to what Meredith had told me about hidden money. Had she been hoping that he would leave it to her once he died? It would explain why she would have put up with him and his abuse.

  But why tell me about the money if she wanted it? And if she didn’t know where it was, why kill him? Had she found the stash and decided it was high time to rid herself of the old man? Why not just quit?

  It made me wonder why Meredith really had been at Timothy’s place yesterday. Was it really for Stewie? Or had she been searching for the money? Junior showing up might have stopped her then, but what about now?

  “Thanks, Joanne,” I said, stepping back. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  A smug smile crossed her features, making me regret the compliment. “Well, I hope you do consider what I said about that thing out front. The whole neighborhood would be a much nicer place if it wasn’t sitting there.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, though I had no intention of parking my van anywhere else.

  “And tell Manny about the shingles on the left side of your house. I think you need to replace them. I can’t understand why you don’t make him fix things up a bit more. If he were my husband, he’d never get a moment’s rest.”

  And that, I could believe.

  I closed the door with a distracted, “Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know.” I was sure she’d complain about that at some point, but right then, I didn’t care.

  Could Timothy’s nurse, Meredith, have killed him for his money? Did Detective Cavanaugh know about the public abuse? What happened behind closed doors in that house? He might have treated her better when no one was looking. Or he could have been worse.

  And what all did it mean for Ben? If Timothy abused Meredith, wouldn’t that give her a greater motive for murder than whatever Detective Cavanaugh thought Ben’s might be?

  Those thoughts followed me as I returned to the beagles and readied their transport. I poured them each a small bowl of dry food in the hopes it would keep them from bothering Joanne further. While her information had given me hope that Ben might get out of this okay, I didn’t want her coming back over to complain about the noise again. Knowing her, she’d call the cops this time, and I really didn’t want to have to explain things to them today.

  As I gathered dog toys, I wondered if Clarence knew about Timothy’s money. His fingering of Ben was the one thing I couldn’t figure out. I could come up with all kinds of motives and suspects, but if Ben had fled the scene, it still put him at the top of the detective’s list.

  Maybe Clarence and Meredith knew one another and were working together. She decides to kill the old man, while Clarence uses Ben to redirect the investigation.

  It wasn’t much of a theory, but it made far more sense to me than believing my son killed a decrepit old man for no reason.

  What I needed to do was tell Detective Cavanaugh what I’d learned and make sure he followed up on those leads. I’m sure he’d learned much of it on his own, but I doubted he’d talked to either Evelyn or Joanne. They both had firsthand accounts about what Timothy Fuller was like. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  But for as much as I’d like to march right down to the station and tell him everything, it would have to wait.

  I urged both beagles into separate carriers. They went reluctantly, but they went. Once I had them locked inside, I realized it wasn’t going to be easy to get them into the van. Normally, Ben was here to lift the heavier loads, and while I wasn’t a complete weakling, the beagles weren’t exactly lightweight. It might just be better to leash the dogs and take them to the van that way, rather than try to carry them.

  My heart ached as I realized that this might end up being a problem for a very long time. If Ben didn’t get released, I’d have no one to help me. I’d be on my own, forced to do everything myself.

  “Come on,” I said, opening both cages. I snagged the leashes from the wall, which caused both dogs to start barking excitedly, thinking we were going for a walk. I leashed them, and then took them out back so they could relieve themselves and run around a little before t
he car ride. Then, while they played, I carried both carriers to the van, placed them inside, and then opened them. Next, I dropped the ramp built into the van we used for animals that couldn’t jump very well.

  Satisfied, I went out back, retrieved the dogs, and then led them around front, up the ramp, and into their carriers. Once they were secured in place, I closed everything up, and started up the engine.

  “Ready?” I asked them. I was answered with a chorus of woofs. “Then, let’s get you home.”

  Feeling better now that I was focused on work, I backed out of the driveway, and pulled away, happy I was about to brighten someone else’s day.

  12

  I stood, smiling, as I watched Toby and Leroy leap around Mr. Keane. The two old beagles looked like puppies again, their energy was so high. Even Mr. Keane looked twenty years younger as he grinned and tossed a ball across the backyard for the dogs to fetch.

  “This is going to be good for Teddy,” Phyllis Keane said, watching her husband.

  “It’ll be good for all of you. A loving pet can shave years off a person.”

  “I hope we can do the same for those two darlings.”

  I was sure they would.

  I watched the old man and his new dogs play for a few minutes more before leaving. All I’d done was deliver the dogs to them, yet I felt like a hero. Even as I got into my van, I could hear Teddy’s hearty laugh, and the bays of the beagles. It was going to be a good match.

  Of course, I’d miss them now that they were gone. Over the years, I’ve learned not to get too attached to the animals I rescued, but sometimes, it’s hard not to. Toby and Leroy, despite their ailments, were good dogs, and deserved to be happy.

  Checking the clock, I decided I had time to stop by and see how Manny was doing before getting involved in anything else. I was thinking of making another run at Junior in the hopes he’d finally relent and let me take Stewie off his hands. Now, there was a man who didn’t deserve a pet. The sooner I could save the Pomeranian from his grasp, the better.