The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice

by Alex Erickson

  “And then, all someone has to do is tell the police where to find it,” I said. “They’ll assume Timothy set it up himself to keep an eye on the house.”

  Selena blinked slowly. She seemed genuinely confused, for which I didn’t blame her. Our little story had sounded better when we’d discussed it in the van. Now, I was beginning to wonder if it was just a little too far-fetched for anyone to believe.

  “We need your help,” I said. “We need to get into the house.”

  “And you want me to do what?” Selena asked, eyes still bouncing between us.

  “Junior has spoken highly of you,” I said. “He said you’ve been a good neighbor to his dad.” I leaned in and put my hand next to my mouth as I stage whispered, “Though I think he’s more interested in your looks than your personality.”

  Selena actually blushed. I had a feeling that would work.

  “We were wondering if you might be willing to talk to Junior for us. Ask him if he would let her into the house so she could collect the machinery. If it doesn’t work out and he turns you away, then there’s no harm. If it does, you’ll be doing her a big favor.”

  “All I need to do is talk to him?” Selena asked.

  “That’s it.”

  Selena looked thoughtful a moment, before shrugging. “I suppose there’s no harm in asking for you. If I see him, I’ll talk to him.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia said.

  “I can’t promise anything,” Selena added. “I don’t really know him all that well, so he might turn me away without listening to me.”

  “That’s all right,” I said. “All we can do is ask. We appreciate you trying.”

  Selena bustled us to the door, seemingly eager to be rid of us. She’s likely going to call Jason the moment we’re out the door. And if he showed, then it was only a matter of time before they made their move. I had no doubts that if he’d killed Timothy, he’d be looking for the camera by night’s end.

  Thanking Selena once more, Amelia and I got into the van. We pulled out of the driveway, and drove past Clarence’s house, who to my delight, was gone. I didn’t want him to see us when we doubled back, nor did I want too many eyes seeing Amelia and me together.

  “Do you think it will work?” Amelia asked, practically bouncing in her seat. The wig and glasses were still on.

  “I hope so.” I made a U-turn and then found a place to park where I could still see both Selena’s house and Timothy’s house, but wouldn’t be easily seen by Clarence if he were to return to his porch.

  “What if it wasn’t her? Or her boyfriend?” Amelia asked.

  “Then we try someone else.” Junior was next on my list, followed by Meredith.

  A car drove by, and then was gone. I couldn’t tell if it was anyone I knew, or just someone passing by.

  “What now?” Amelia asked, pushing her wig-hair out of her face. She grimaced, clearly not liking the feel of it.

  “Now? We wait.”

  “For how long?”

  I checked the clock. It wasn’t even noon.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  “And then?” Amelia didn’t sound like she wanted to sit in the van for the next couple of hours.

  Admittedly, neither did I.

  But I wasn’t going to walk away now, not after we’d gotten the ball rolling. If they made a move for the nonexistent camera, I planned on being there to catch them in the act.

  “We’ll decide that when we see what happens,” I said, hoping that whatever did happen, would put the nail in the coffin of someone other than Ben.

  26

  Something rustled in the tree overhead, causing me to tense briefly before I resumed my watch. When I’d first concocted my little plan to catch Jason and Selena in the act, I hadn’t realized how boring the wait would be.

  Night had fallen some time ago, and nothing but animals had moved. No cars arrived at Selena’s, let alone Timothy’s house, and there were no furtive movements from next door.

  I was crouched outside, a dry hamburger from a fast-food place downtown in hand. Amelia had left four times now, once for the food, another to swap the van for her car, which was less conspicuous, and the other two times to check on Stewie and Lenore, who was perfectly happy dog-sitting for the day. I didn’t blame her for wanting to leave. The wait was awful and I was beginning to wonder if I’d been wrong about Selena and Jason’s role in Timothy’s murder.

  I took a bite from my burger and chewed with a grimace. Would it be so hard to put fresh condiments on the greasy meat? It was becoming clear the food was as bad an idea as my plan.

  I considered calling Detective Cavanaugh to tell him what I’d done, but shelved the idea. He would probably laugh at me for doing something so stupid. I figured I could give it a couple more hours, and then I would have to give up for the night. There was no way I was going to stay out here until morning, especially since Manny would be home soon and would start calling, wondering where I was.

  I shifted so I could lean against one of the trees bordering the property across the alley from Timothy’s house. I couldn’t see Amelia’s car from where I was, but I was sure Amelia was still sitting there somewhere, watching. If nothing else, our little stunt would give her practice if she truly did decide to pursue a career in law enforcement. Detectives spent quite a lot of time sitting around, waiting for something to happen.

  What was worse, I couldn’t check my phone or make a call without giving myself away. The phones these days gave off way too much light, and if Selena or Jason were to peer outside at just the right moment, they would surely see me.

  Shifting positions again, I rubbed at a cramp forming in my left calf. I could always go back to the car and wait there for a little while. I figured that if something did happen, we’d see a flashlight inside Timothy’s house, or would hear something as they started searching the place.

  But what if we didn’t hear or see anything? Sitting back here might very well be the only way I’d catch them. Could I really risk missing it?

  No, I decided. I could suffer a little while longer. It was for Ben, after all.

  My doubts were heavy as I took another bite of the near-moldy burger. My stomach revolted, so I threw the rest away in the neighbor’s trash.

  I was about to give in for the night when I saw someone creeping around the side of the house. My breath caught as I watched the shape move slowly, circling around the property. I hadn’t seen anyone leave Selena’s house, but that meant little since I couldn’t see her front door from where I crouched. Amelia had her eyes on the front, but since she was forced to park down the road a ways so no one would see her, she might have missed someone leaving.

  The shape paused at the back door. I wondered if it was the same person who’d tried to break into my house last night. I couldn’t make anything out about them, no facial features, and no real good estimate on height or weight. The intruder was crouched in a way that meant it could be anyone—Jason or Selena included.

  Wishing I had a way to contact Amelia other than risking a phone call or text, I eased forward in an attempt to get a better look. The person was attempting to jimmy the back door lock, head constantly on a swivel. I still couldn’t make out their features—whether it was Selena or Jason or someone else—but I was afraid to get too close.

  Finally, the lock clicked, and they were in, vanishing into the house like a ghost.

  No light clicked on. The door closed, hardly making a sound. I waited as my heart thundered in my ears, but from outside, I could see and hear nothing.

  Call Cavanaugh or wait? I wondered, itching to do something, while fearing for my life at the same time. Nothing said this intruder was the same one that killed Timothy, but if it was, I would be putting myself at great risk doing anything more than calling the detective and telling him what I’d seen.

  And what would Cavanaugh do once he found out what I’d done? I doubted he’d thank me. And if the intruder got away, what would we have then? My word against e
veryone else’s. No one said it was Selena or Jason. It could very well be Junior, coming back to poke around for his father’s money.

  But why be so secretive about it?

  I decided to risk it and shot Amelia a quick text, telling her someone was in the house and to call Detective Cavanaugh anonymously. At least then, we’d have plausible deniability if this blew up in our faces.

  Now what? I wondered. I could sit back and wait, eyes on the house, hoping Cavanaugh got there in time.

  But what if they checked every last spot where a camera could be hidden, only to find it nowhere in sight? If it was Selena or Jason, they’d immediately think I’d led them on. And if it was one of them who’d tried to break into my house last night, they could try again.

  And if they left while I was sitting here, debating on what to do? This whole thing would be for naught, and Ben would still be stuck behind bars.

  I refused to let that happen.

  Creeping slowly forward, I made for the back door, hoping the intruder hadn’t locked it behind them. All was quiet outside, though now, I could hear something coming from inside, a harsh sound, like plastic being pulled apart with force. I didn’t have much time.

  Testing the door, I sucked in a relieved breath when I found it was still unlocked. Oh so slowly, I opened it, teeth clenched out of fear I’d make a sound. I opened the door just enough for me to slip in, and then, very carefully, I closed it behind me.

  The intruder wasn’t in view, which I was thankful for. Since someone had ransacked the place before, tearing apart the equipment, it was all over the room, so there really was no telling which machine might hold my made-up camera.

  Only the faintest of moonlight illuminated the kitchen. I crept to the counter to where I’d found the knives before, but was disappointed to find them gone. In fact, the entire counter had been cleaned off, and likely boxed away, leaving me with nothing I could grab as a weapon.

  My eyes traveled to the drawers and cupboards, and I wondered if there was something I could use in there, when a muttered curse came from the other room. There was a thump, followed by another curse. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the wall, mere feet from where I crouched. I practically stopped breathing as I slowly moved toward the doorway.

  Just leave, Liz! The voice in the back of my mind sounded a lot like Manny’s as it urged me to get out. You don’t have a weapon. The person in there could be a cold-blooded killer. Do you really want to confront him or her bare-handed?

  Well, no, I didn’t, but I also didn’t want Ben to spend the rest of his life in jail.

  I took another slow, careful step . . .

  Right on top of a dog toy.

  The squeak seemed deafening in the otherwise quiet house. My breath caught in my throat and every muscle in my body seized. As the echo died away, the only sound I could hear was my own pounding heart, which was currently residing somewhere near my larynx.

  Afraid to remove my foot from the toy, I remained as I was, hoping that somehow, the intruder hadn’t heard the loud squeak. I couldn’t hear them moving on the other side of the wall. There were no more curses, no sound of plastic being pried free from metal.

  Seconds passed where nothing happened. I started to get dizzy from holding my breath, so I let it out slowly between my teeth. I sucked in a trembling breath, filling my lungs with air that burned.

  “I hear you.”

  The voice sent icicles racing down my spine. It was said singsong, almost whispered. I couldn’t place the voice, but I was pretty sure that whoever said it was male.

  With nothing else I could do, I straightened, taking my weight off the dog toy. It exhaled yet another reverse squeak as air rushed inside it.

  “Come out with your hands up,” I said, feeling ridiculous. Even if he did what I said, I didn’t have a weapon. It would take him all of two seconds to figure that out, and then what?

  A grunt of a laugh came from the other side of the wall. I guess I didn’t have to worry about that.

  “The police are on their way,” I said, hating how scared I sounded. “You’ve been caught red-handed.”

  “I have, have I?” The speaker stepped into view, face swathed in shadow. Now that I was up close, I noted he was taller than expected. This was definitely not Jason Maxwell, though the voice was vaguely familiar, if not gruff. I could tell he was masking it on purpose.

  Clutching my phone like I might a knife, I readied myself. “Stay where you are.”

  This time, I was met with a chuckle. “Ah. Liz Denton,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew you would figure it out. Didn’t I tell you that when you came to visit me?”

  The entire room seemed to wobble as I finally recognized the voice.

  “Clarence?” I asked, not quite sure I believed what my ears were telling me.

  But it all made sense now. Clarence was the witness who’d claimed to have seen Ben entering Timothy’s house. If he was the one who killed the old man, then, of course, he would make up a story and try to pin it on someone else.

  “Timothy wasn’t as smart as you, no sir.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “That man was stubborn as could be, yet never truly thought about the consequences of his actions.”

  “You killed him?” I asked at a whisper, though I already knew the answer.

  “It couldn’t be helped. He wouldn’t let things slide, nor would he listen to reason. It really wasn’t all that surprising, not if you knew the man.” Clarence sighed, held out his hand. “Give me the weapon, Mrs. Denton. Please.”

  I took a step back, hiding the phone behind my back. It was then I noticed the pry bar in Clarence’s other, gloved, hand.

  “Now, I don’t want to have to use this on you,” he said, hefting it. “But I will if you make me.”

  “But . . .” A thousand thoughts zinged through my head. How could such a nice old man kill anyone? How had he known where to look for the camera? Would he kill me too?

  And, most importantly, where in the heck was Detective Cavanaugh?

  Clarence took a step forward. Moonlight from the window swept across his face. He looked so serene, so calm, it felt like I was dreaming. When he held out his hand again, a faint smile crossed his face, like he was simply asking me to dance.

  “The weapon, please.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, refusing to show him my phone. Please, let Amelia have seen my text. The moment he realized I wasn’t armed, was the moment he would make his move.

  “Now, that’s up to you,” Clarence said, advancing a step. “If you hand it over, maybe we can work something out. We both know Timothy wasn’t a nice man. He deserved what he got. Those of us forced to deal with him need to be compensated for the stress he put us through, don’t you think?”

  “I think murder isn’t the answer.”

  Clarence shrugged, hand insistent. “Sometimes, it’s all we’ve got.”

  The door was closed behind me. Ahead, the front door would be locked, and there was nothing upstairs that could save me. Clarence had just admitted to murdering Timothy Fuller. There was no way he was going to let me get out of this alive.

  Not unless I took matters into my own hands.

  “Catch!” I shouted, tossing my phone underhand at him like it was a live hand grenade.

  Clarence’s eyes widened as he tried to catch it, dropping the pry bar in his surprise. I came charging in, right after the phone, shoulder lowered like a linebacker, and hit him directly in the gut with all the force I could manage.

  For an old man, he was surprisingly solid. He grunted and staggered back a step, but didn’t go down.

  My phone clattered to the ground, and he stepped on it as he righted himself and shoved me backward. I went down, landing hard on my backside, and nearly cracking my head against the edge of the table. Clarence winced, and rubbed at his wrist, like the shove had hurt him just as much as it had me.

  “Now, why would you go and do something like that?” He beg
an to advance, eyes gone hard. Murderous.

  Not wanting to be caught on my back, I scuttled backward, working my way to my feet. I was only a few inches from the door, and I risked turning to grab for it.

  Clarence was faster.

  His hand slammed hard on the door just as I started to pull it open. With his free hand, he grabbed for my wrist, but I was able to twist free before he could get a solid hold. I screamed for help, and then ran for the living room, and the pry bar, which had bounced just inside the room.

  Of course, I managed to step on the dog toy again, and completely lost my balance. I staggered forward, catching myself on the wall, hitting the light switch as I did.

  After squinting into the dark for so long, it was like someone had turned on the sun. Clarence cursed, coming to a sudden stop as he was blinded. Blinking away tears, I dropped down and felt around for the pry bar, black spots flashing in front of my eyes. My fingers hit metal just as Clarence kicked it away.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, breathing hard.

  I rose and held up both hands as I backed into the living room. The already dismantled medical machines were in small pieces, wires pulled free. He hadn’t come snooping for Timothy’s money, but had come after the camera.

  How had he known?

  If I thought I had time, I would have asked him.

  But Clarence’s good humor was gone. He advanced on me, face hard, uncaring. This wasn’t the same man I’d sat with on his porch. I could see the killer in his eye when he said, “I’m sorry to have to do this.”

  “Me too.” I lunged at him, shoving him in the chest. Startled, he staggered back, slamming into the wall so hard, his head snapped back and left a dent in the drywall. I spun, and rushed for the front door. If I could get it open, then perhaps Amelia would see what was happening and could call for help.

  I fumbled for the lock, finally catching hold, just as Clarence roared from behind me like some sort of wild animal. I jerked the door open, and was about to rush out it when a shout rang out.