“I know. I don’t think Junior was thinking too clearly. He seemed off when I talked to him.”
Manny, by now, had Stewie’s nerves calmed enough, he could start checking his joints and teeth. The dog didn’t like the manhandling, but accepted it well enough. There was no barking, no growling.
“I did notice something odd,” I said, watching my husband work with admiration. I appreciated the care he took with the animals, but there was no way I could ever become a vet. For every animal he helped, there was always one who was too sick to be cured. It would break my heart every single time, and unlike Manny, I’m not sure I’d get over losing someone’s pet.
“What’s that?” Manny asked, gently squeezing Stewie’s front legs. “Something odd with Stewie?”
“No. Well, yes.” I waved a hand in uncertainty. Stewie watched it, eyes growing bright. He was likely hoping for treats. “It’s about Junior, really.”
“Okay?” Manny finished checking the basics, and resumed stroking the Pomeranian, who was being awfully good. Even the most well-behaved dog didn’t like getting poked and prodded by a stranger.
“It was something Ray had said. He told me that Stewie had a tendency to defend his owner, Timothy. He’d bark and get a little aggressive, though I don’t think he actually bit anyone. And while I know Pomeranians like to bark quite a lot, there is one person who seems to really get under his skin.”
“Let me guess, Junior?”
I nodded. “Every time I saw them together, Stewie would bark at him and cower away like he was afraid of Junior. He’s the only person with whom I ever saw him like that.”
“Dogs can sense when people don’t like them,” Manny said. “If Junior is as bad as you say, then it’s likely the reason why Stewie acts as he does toward him.”
“Could there be more to it?” I asked.
Manny’s brow furrowed. “Meaning?” Before I could answer, he held up a hand. “Hold that thought.” He poked his head out the door. “Hey, Trinity, can you get me Stewie’s records. They’d be filed under Fuller, Timothy. Thanks.” He popped back in. “You were saying?”
“Do you think it’s possible Stewie saw the murder and is barking at Junior because he was the one who did it?”
Manny appeared surprised by the question. “Do you think that’s what happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But as far as I can tell, Stewie only acts that way with Junior, which has to mean something, doesn’t it? He’s never barked at me, and he seemed fine around Timothy’s nurse, Meredith.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Manny said. “But you can’t use his barking as proof of a crime. In fact, I’m more apt to believe he simply doesn’t like Junior, than he witnessed a murder and is reacting because of it.”
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I wasn’t really all that surprised. It was a long shot. “Junior is pretty obsessed with finding his dad’s money,” I said. “If anyone had motive to kill Timothy, it was him.”
Manny gave me a sympathetic smile and walked over, took my head in both hands, and brought my forehead to his lips. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“You want to help Ben. I understand that, and I love you for it.”
I could feel the “but” coming. I stepped back and waited.
“But you need to let the police deal with it,” he said. “I want to help too, but what if you do something that messes with the investigation? We have to be careful, Liz. Tell the police what you know. If money is involved, I’m sure they’ll find it. Now that you have Stewie, there’s no reason for you to talk to Junior again. I don’t want something to happen to you.”
“I know, but . . .”
“I understand,” Manny said, though I hadn’t actually said much of anything. “I want to rush to the police station and demand they release Ben. I want to check the scene myself, see if I can find something the police have missed.” His fists clenched, some of his composure slipping. “But I know I can’t. If I do, I’ll mess it up somehow. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that. So, I’m here.”
“I feel the same way,” I said. “It’s just so hard to do nothing. And come to find out, the girl Ben was hanging out with at the time of the murder already has a boyfriend. I keep wondering if she was a part of it somehow. And then after what happened with Amelia, I’m afraid I’m losing complete control of everything.”
Manny went completely still. “Something’s happened to Amelia?”
Oh, crap. I hadn’t meant to say anything about her. That’s what I get for babbling on like a fool. “It’s nothing,” I said. Not very convincingly, I might add.
“No, Liz. What’s going on with Amelia?”
Reluctantly, I told him about my visit with Duke, and how I saw Amelia with the older man afterward. I downplayed the whole thing about me following her, saying I’d been heading in the same direction, but told him about it nonetheless. I ended with what she’d told me about wanting to be a detective or private investigator when she finally graduated college.
Manny was silent for a couple of minutes afterward, digesting everything I’d said. I couldn’t tell if he was upset, angry, or thrilled. He paced over to Stewie, who was watching us, head cocked to the side like he’d been trying to follow the conversation, before Manny spun, a wide smile on his face.
“This is fantastic news,” he said.
“It is?”
“It sounds like Amelia has finally found her calling.” He grinned. “I was starting to get worried there for a while.”
“I told her we’d support her,” I said, relieved. While I might have told Amelia we’d both be happy for her, there’d been a niggling of doubt in the back of my mind that Manny wouldn’t approve of her career choice.
“You know, we should celebrate,” he said. “Tonight.” The door opened and Trinity entered. She handed Manny Stewie’s file, giving us each a curious look, before heading back out front. “We should show her we support her, make a big deal out of it. She’ll probably hate it at first, but I bet she’ll appreciate it in the end.”
“That actually sounds like a good idea,” I said, thinking it through. With everything bad that’s happened lately, it would be nice to focus on something positive for a change. Amelia wasn’t big on us showering her with attention, but I thought she’d approve.
“Let me finish up with Stewie and we can make plans.”
“Sound good.”
“This is great,” Manny said, turning to the Pomeranian. “Don’t you think so, buddy?”
I left him with the dog, and went outside to make a call. Manny was right; I needed to let the police handle Ben’s case. I’d tell Detective Cavanaugh everything I’d learned since we’d last talked, and then I’d step away. There was no reason for me to keep going back to Timothy’s place, let alone Selena’s house, now that I had Stewie in custody.
I dialed the detective’s cell—I’ d found his number in the van—and waited as it rang. Eventually, it went to voicemail, but I clicked off without leaving a message.
I started to dial the police station, but only made it halfway through the number before I canceled the call and shoved my phone into my pocket. If I truly thought about it, it was unlikely Detective Cavanaugh would want to hear from me again today, even if I had information for him. He had a pretty full plate already, and what I had to say might not have anything to do with Timothy’s murder. I could always save it for tomorrow.
By now, Cavanaugh probably already knew about the money and everyone’s interest in it. And what difference did it truly make that Selena already had a boyfriend when she was flirting with my son? It wasn’t a crime—though in my mind, it should be.
Trinity was back behind the desk, attention focused on her phone, when I came back inside. When I peeked into the exam room, both Manny and Stewie were gone. I assumed the dog was getting weighed. Afterward, tests would be done, many of which, would likely leave the Pomeranian gru
mpy.
Instead of returning to the exam room, I sat down in the waiting area, on the dog admittance side. A woman sat across the way, a pair of black-and-white kittens in a carrier. She must have come in while I was on the phone, though I hadn’t seen her walk by. She cooed at the mewling kitties as she awaited her turn to be seen.
Theresa Rush came from the back a few minutes later, rather than Ray, who I’d expected. Theresa was five years older than me, and while we got along all right, I don’t think she really cared for me all that much. She saw me, gave a half-hearted wave, and then took the woman and her kittens to exam room one.
Fifteen minutes later, Manny came out, leading a surprisingly happy-looking Stewie on a leash.
“He’s all done,” he said. “He handled the exam like a pro.”
“Did everything check out?” I asked, accepting the leash when Manny offered it.
“It did,” Manny said. “He’s far healthier than I expected. No cataracts or signs of disease, other than maybe a little arthritis in his legs. Mr. Fuller took good care of him.” He rubbed behind Stewie’s ears. “The blood work won’t be ready for a day or so, so I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive our friend here is going to get a relatively clean bill of health.”
That was good to hear. Maybe everything in the world wasn’t falling apart, despite how it seemed.
“Thanks, Manny,” I said. “I’ll start getting everything prepped for his adoption.” I looked down at the dog, and a pang shot through me. I liked the little guy, even though I hadn’t spent much time with him yet. This one was going to be hard to let go of.
Then again, weren’t they all?
“You calling them tonight?”
“No, I think I’ll wait until tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t want the Lincolns to get their hopes up if something came up in the tests overnight.
Or if Detective Cavanaugh called, wanting to see the dog. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that Stewie knew more about who killed Timothy than he could tell us. I doubted Cavanaugh would have any more luck than the rest of us getting it out of him, but I wouldn’t put it past him to try.
“I can keep him here overnight, if you want?” Manny asked, concern in his voice. “It’ll be no trouble.”
“That’s all right,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Stewie and I can get the room set up together, right, Stewie?”
The Pomeranian yapped in agreement.
Manny laughed. “If you say so.” He gave me a quick hug, and then stepped back as the door opened and a couple came in with a Labrador. “If you change your mind, just let me know. We’ve got room here.”
“I won’t,” I assured him. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Liz,” Manny said as I started to walk away. “Remember what I said.”
I flashed him a smile, and then left, a happy dog trailing behind me. When I opened the back of my van, he pranced in place, as if he actually wanted to be picked up and put into the carrier.
“Things are looking up for you,” I said, picking up the dog and putting him into the back of the van. He ran into the carrier, and immediately curled up and lay down. Apparently, the exam had taken more out of him than he’d let on.
I closed the back of the van, content. Stewie was going to a loving home. And while his former owner was gone, I was pretty sure the Lincolns would make sure he remained happy. Things were definitely going his way.
I just hoped that some of his good fortune would eventually rub off on me.
22
Stewie yapped and then skipped sideways, tail wagging a mile a minute. In response, Wheels rolled to his left, circling the excited dog, causing Stewie to spin so fast, he very nearly fell down.
“They look like they’re getting along,” Manny said, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek before tossing his keys on the coffee table.
“They’ve been playing since we got home,” I said, smiling. I was sitting on the couch, cup of coffee in hand as I watched the dog and cat play. When I first brought Stewie in, he didn’t seem too sure about the cat with the wheels strapped to her backside. After only a few minutes of sniffing—and a playful swat or two—they’d seemingly become best friends.
Manny sat down beside me, letting loose a heavy sigh as he landed. He pulled off his shoes and then rubbed at his arches. “He’s handling it pretty well, all things considered.”
“He is. For as mean as Timothy Fuller was to everyone around him, he really did care about his dog. And then when you consider the time Stewie spent with Junior, it’s no wonder he’s in a good mood now that he’s not around him anymore.”
“Mm-hmm,” Manny said in agreement.
Wheels spun in a tight circle, causing Stewie to lose his mind and start hopping on stiff legs as he yapped excitedly. The cat came to a stop, staggered two steps, and then rolled toward the Pomeranian, who fell over backward, before leaping to his feet and running away. Wheels, of course, gave chase.
I watched them go, still smiling. Wheels was used to having other animals in the house since we were always temporarily fostering them, but I wondered if it might not be a good idea to get her a permanent play buddy. It didn’t have to be a dog. Another cat would work. Even a rabbit or a ferret would, since Wheels had never been violent toward any other animal before, regardless of species. I’d brought in a guinea pig once, and the two of them had played like the best of friends.
I sipped my coffee and sighed in contentment. For the first time in what felt like a long time, I was relaxed. Just because Ben was in trouble, it didn’t mean I had to wallow in misery.
Of course, merely thinking of Ben caused my smile to slowly fade. Here I was, sitting in the comforts of my own home, watching the animals play, while he sat in a cold cell, on a hard cot, fearing for his future. What kind of mother was I?
“Where’s Amelia?” Manny asked, working at his other arch. Normally, I would have offered to give him a foot rub, but I was afraid to put down my coffee mug. As much as I’d like to think I was holding it together, I was one more disaster from completely losing it. I was grasping the mug like it was my sanity.
“In her room,” I said. “She came home a little while ago. I think she’s studying, but you’d have to check on her to be sure.”
“Amelia!” Manny called, though we both knew it would be no use. He gave it a count of three, and then rose. “I’ll be right back.” He headed for her room, where he’d likely find her sprawled across her bed, earbuds crammed into her ears, with the music loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it. It was a wonder that she wasn’t deaf by now.
I considered getting up and warming up some food for Manny, who’d worked late tonight. Apparently, he’d gotten an emergency call that turned out, thankfully, not to be as big of an issue as first assumed. Amelia and I had eaten quietly, conversation focused mainly on the Pomeranian, before she’d retired to her room. I assumed Manny had already grabbed a bite to eat since he hadn’t said anything when he’d come in, but I couldn’t be sure without asking him.
I waited until Manny returned before finally rising from my cozy spot on the couch. He made directly for the kitchen, and I followed him in, thinking I’d make the offer to heat something up, when I noted a bag sitting on the counter.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A cake,” he said, pulling said dessert free. “For our little celebration tonight. I picked it up on the way home, figuring you wouldn’t have had a chance to grab something. I guess I should have called and asked. You didn’t bake anything, did you?”
I stared at him blankly for a long couple of seconds before it dawned on me. “For Amelia?”
He popped the top of the plastic container, revealing a chocolate cake. Nothing was written on it. “I wasn’t sure what to grab,” he said. “So, I went with chocolate. No celebration would be complete without cake, am I right?” He grinned.
“What are we celebrating?” Amelia asked, coming into the room. Her phone was shoved into her pocket, earbuds ha
nging loose around her neck. I could hear the buzz of music coming from them.
I went to the cabinet to retrieve plates, figuring I’d let Manny take the lead on this one.
“You!” he said, wrapping her in a hug, which she stood stiffly for. “I heard you’ve finally found your calling. I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Really, Dad?” Amelia said, face growing red as she pulled away. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Oh, yes I do.”
Amelia looked to me for help, but I merely shrugged.
“Fine,” she said, though I could tell she was pleased. “I want your icing.” The last was directed at me.
“It’s all yours.”
Manny cut each of us a piece of chocolate cake. I scraped off the icing on my piece and slid it over onto Amelia’s plate. I liked cake, but I wasn’t a big fan of ultra-sugary icing. I could stand it in small quantities, but I’d usually split it between my children just to avoid the inevitable tummy ache. Now, without Ben, however . . .
No, Liz. Enjoy this.
We carried our plates to the table, and I went back for some milk. Nothing went better with chocolate cake than a cold glass of milk. The same went for cookies, and pretty much any dessert, if you asked me. I poured three glasses, and Amelia came in to carry hers and Manny’s back to the table. Once that was done, we sat down, and immediately dug in.
“No,” Manny said when Stewie realized we were eating and rushed over to his side. “You can’t have chocolate.”
Stewie yapped in response, and then tore after Wheels, who zipped by, swatting at the dog’s backside as she sped past.
Amelia laughed, which made the ache in my heart ease. I kept telling myself I’d focus on the good things in my life, yet every time I turned around, I was thinking of Ben and everything that had gone wrong over the last couple of days.
“So, what have you learned about being a detective?” Manny asked, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth.
Amelia shot me a worried look before answering. “Not much,” she said, easing around the issue. Like me, I wasn’t sure how Manny would take it if she admitted to looking into her brother’s case on her own. “I really only just got started.”
The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice Page 19