Wagging Through the Snow

by Laurien Berenson

  “Doesn’t this place look great?” she asked.

  “Fabulous,” I agreed.

  The decorations I’d seen early in the week—garlands of golden tinsel, shiny ornaments, and braided Christmas ribbons—were now hanging on the walls and draped around the counter. The inflatable Santa Claus had been blown up and positioned in the middle of the room. Struck by the chill breeze when we opened the door, he bobbed back and forth in place. The movement made him look as though he was waving hello to incoming customers.

  I scooted around behind the counter to give Claire a quick hug. “You’ve done a fantastic job here.”

  “Not me,” she said. “I wish I could take the credit, but mostly it belongs to Frank.”

  “Speaking of my little brother, where is he? I thought he’d be here today having a ball.”

  Bob finished dealing with his customer, then turned to talk to us. “Frank’s over at The Bean Counter. Pre-Christmas, we do plenty of extra business there too. It’s not like we can slack off at our principle location for the sake of a seasonal fling here. For the next month, he and I will be running ragged trying to keep both places functioning at peak performance.”

  “Christmas season is a slow time of year for me,” Sam said. He worked freelance designing computer software, mostly for long-term clients. “If you want, I’d be happy to pitch in.”

  “Seriously? That would be great.” Bob clapped Sam hard on the shoulder, a gesture of male solidarity that has always looked more painful than gratifying to me. At least they hadn’t bumped fists or hips.

  “I can help after school and on weekends,” said Davey.

  “Me too,” Kevin offered. He hates to be left out of anything.

  “You guys are terrific. Don’t be surprised if I take you up on that.” Bob’s gaze swung my way. “How about you, Mel? You must have a few hours to spare for the family business.”

  Before I could reply the office door opened, admitting a blast of cold air along with Aunt Peg and Snowball. The Maltese was sporting a new collar and jaunty red leash. When Aunt Peg paused to stamp the snow off her boots on the doormat, Snowball ran ahead into the room. Aunt Peg dropped the lead and the Maltese made a beeline for Kevin who was sitting on the floor.

  “Greetings!” Aunt Peg said heartily. “This looks like a lively gathering. What did I miss?”

  “Dad said that Sam and I can come and help run this place,” Davey announced. “Isn’t that cool?”

  “Very cool,” Aunt Peg agreed. “I’ve always said you were a useful child.” Useful people were her favorite kind. She turned and looked at me. “And you?”

  “I have plenty to tell you,” I said. “Maybe I can recap while we go pick out our tree?”

  After our experience the week before, none of us wanted to venture very far into the woods surrounding the buildings. That hardly limited our choices, however. There were still dozens of pine trees for us to inspect and evaluate.

  Sam and the boys went racing ahead through the snow, examining and discarding numerous options in their quest to find the perfect Christmas tree to grace our living room. Aunt Peg and I followed slowly behind as I brought her up to speed on all that had happened since the last time we’d spoken. She had handed Snowball’s leash to Kevin and the Maltese was bounding happily through the low drifts. When the boys paused to look at a tree, the little white dog would lower his head and push his nose through the powder until his face was coated with a froth of white crystals. Aunt Peg watched his antics with a bemused smile on her face.

  “It does seem like a shame,” she said when I’d finished my report.

  “What does?”

  “That a man is dead and nobody appears to be mourning his loss.”

  “I gather that was Pete’s own fault. By the time he disappeared from Stonebridge, he’d left behind more enemies than friends.”

  “Hey Mom, hurry up!” Davey called back. “I think we’ve found it!”

  The tree my family had settled upon was a glorious Douglas fir. It stood more than six feet tall, was dark green in color, and had a full, symmetrical silhouette. Best of all, it smelled heavenly. I drew in a deep breath and was flooded with memories of Christmases past.

  “Great choice,” I said. “It’s perfect.”

  Sam was carrying a chain saw he’d picked up in the office. Davey had dragged along a sled to transport the tree back to the parking area. It wasn’t long before the six of us were on our way out of the woods. Snowball had been returned to Aunt Peg’s care and Kevin was riding on the sled with the tree.

  “Faster!” Kev whooped gleefully. “You guys are too slow!”

  “Maybe that’s because you’re too heavy,” Davey told him.

  “No.” Kev shook his head. “You just need to try harder.”

  Sam and the boys deposited the sled beside the SUV. As they went into the office to get some rope to tie up the tree, a small pickup truck came bumping up the driveway. Aunt Peg and I had been about to follow the rest of the family inside when the truck pulled into a parking space and John Smith got out.

  Abruptly I stopped and turned back. Aunt Peg followed my lead.

  “Who’s that?” she asked as he came walking toward us.

  “John Smith,” I told her.

  “Excellent,” she said under her breath.

  His long strides made short work of the distance between us. A knit cap was pulled low over Smith’s forehead. His mouth, below the dark moustache, was drawn into a thin line.

  “I just came by to tell you I was right,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “Pete wasn’t drunk. Not even close. There wasn’t any alcohol in his system at all.”

  “How very interesting,” said Aunt Peg.

  Smith’s gaze swung her way. “And you are?”

  “Peg Turnbull. Innocent bystander.”

  My foot, I thought.

  John Smith didn’t look terribly impressed either. He looked back at me. “I just thought you should know.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Are the police aware of that?”

  “They’re the ones who told me. Guy named Officer Shiner?”

  I shrugged. “We barely exchanged names with the officers who were here. Their level of interest didn’t seem to require it. Has that changed now?”

  “I hope so,” Smith replied. “I told them Pete was off the sauce. They didn’t believe me any more than you did.” He turned and started to walk away.

  “His family doesn’t believe it either,” I said.

  Smith spun back around. “You found them?”

  “Yes. His name was Peter Charles Dempsey and he came from Stonebridge. He disappeared five years ago and nobody from there has seen him since.”

  Smith frowned. The downturned moustache gave him a ferocious look. “That can’t be right.”

  “Why not?” asked Aunt Peg.

  “Pete’s been trying to put his life back together.”

  “So you said,” I agreed.

  “Part of the process involved contacting people he’d hurt in the past. Apologizing, trying to make amends. Pete had started doing that over the last month or so.”

  I shook my head. That didn’t jibe with what I’d been told. “Almost everyone I spoke to said they hadn’t heard from him in years. His high school sweetheart told me that people had tried to find Pete after he left Stonebridge. But nobody knew where he’d disappeared to.”

  “They should have known,” Smith insisted.

  “I understand Pete wasn’t the most stable character,” Aunt Peg said gently. “Maybe he was lying to you about his actions.”

  “Or maybe the people you talked to were the ones who were lying,” Smith replied. “I got the impression Pete had ticked off a lot of folks in his former life.”

  “He did,” I agreed. “People said they were happy to be rid of him when he left.”

  “That’s precisely my point.”

  Aunt Peg nodded. “I like the way your mind works, Mr. Smith. You’re
thinking that one of Pete’s former associates might have wanted to be rid of him permanently, aren’t you?”

  Smith eyed us both. “You’re darn right I am. Aren’t you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunday I went back to Stonebridge. How could I resist?

  I wondered if Olivia Brent went to the gym on weekends. Pete’s business partner, Owen, had implied that she worked out every day. In December, that probably meant somewhere indoors. I figured that checking out the only fitness center in town was worth a try. Because sometimes you just get lucky. And indeed, at the beginning of the day good fortune seemed to be on my side.

  I stopped at the gym’s front desk and presented myself as an old friend of Olivia’s, hoping to surprise her. The attendant smiled cheerfully and directed me around the corner to the weight room. Only one person was currently inside. A petite, elfin woman—blond hair scrunched up in a ponytail on top of her head, corded muscles glistening with sweat—was lifting an implement the size of a small couch.

  Seriously, I was impressed.

  As I lingered in the doorway, Olivia lowered the bar, then dropped it with a small bounce on the mat at her feet. She reached around behind her and grabbed a water bottle. After taking a long swallow, she screwed the cap back on, then glared across the room at me and said, “What are you looking at?”

  That got my feet moving. “Olivia Brent?” I made my way carefully around the various instruments of torture between us.

  One brow lifted delicately. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Melanie Travis. I was told I might find you here.”

  “So you’re Melanie.” Olivia didn’t look surprised to see me. “Where’s the dog? I heard there was going to be one.”

  Small-town gossip, you had to love it. And I’d thought the dog show grapevine was efficient.

  “Just so you know,” she added, “I don’t like dogs.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I meant that sincerely. Anyone who didn’t like dogs was missing out on one of the great joys in life. “But Faith stayed home today.”

  “Dogs should stay home every day. That way they won’t bother people.” Her emphasis on the last two words made it clear that my presence was every bit as much of an annoyance as Faith’s would have been.

  “I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes,” I said.

  “And I was hoping for an uninterrupted workout.” Olivia took another drink of water. “Oh what the hell, why not? I know you’ve seen everyone else. If you’d missed me, I’d have probably felt slighted.”

  I opened my mouth to speak. She held up a hand to forestall my first question.

  “Not here. First I need a shower. You can meet me in the juice bar in fifteen minutes. Grab a table and order me a raspberry banana smoothie. Grande, with extra fruit.”

  “Got it.” If that was the price of Olivia’s cooperation, I was probably getting off easy.

  The juice bar was on the other side of the building. I ordered two smoothies and sat down to wait. I’d chosen a table from which I could see the gym’s front door because I was half-afraid that Olivia might ditch me and use the fifteen minutes to give herself a head start. But twelve minutes later she came gliding into the juice bar, tossed a duffel bag on the floor next to the table, and slid into the chair opposite me.

  “So Pete’s dead,” she said. “Tell me about it.”

  While I did that, Olivia downed half her smoothie in several quick gulps. She struck me as the kind of woman who did everything with gusto. In other circumstances, I would have hoped we’d become friends.

  “Well, that’s gruesome,” she said when I’d finished. “Poor Pete. I wouldn’t wish an end like that on anyone.”

  “I understand that you and he had a relationship,” I said obliquely.

  Olivia grinned at my choice of words. “Yeah, the kind of relationship that broke up my marriage. Pete and I were sleeping together. It lasted two years. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  She’d clearly been hoping to shock me. If so, she’d have to try a little harder than that. “Actually, I was wondering whether you’d seen Pete recently.”

  “No. Not in years.” Olivia seemed to be taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “Pete was trying to get his life back together. He’d entered a program to help him quit drinking. According to his sponsor, he’d been sober for three months. Pete was getting in touch with people whom he felt he’d wronged in the past and asking for their forgiveness.”

  “Well, that wouldn’t have been me.” Olivia took another gulp of her drink. “What Pete and I did together might have been wrong by society’s standards, but we both went into the affair with our eyes wide open. And for a while, we had a blast together. If Pete had tried to apologize for that, I’d have been offended, you know?”

  I didn’t actually, but I nodded anyway. “Were you surprised to hear of his death?”

  “Sad to say, not really. The liquor, which I’m sure everyone has talked about endlessly until you’re tired of listening to it, wasn’t his only problem. Pete always had his demons.”

  “Like what?” My smoothie was strawberry avocado. The barista had recommended it. I hadn’t been sure that the flavors would work together, but the result was delicious.

  “Oh you know, just stuff.”

  “Problems with his marriage?”

  Olivia snorted derisively. “Considering who you’re talking to, I’d say that’s a given, wouldn’t you?”

  Point taken.

  “His job?” I asked.

  Olivia waved a hand through the air, dismissing my second guess. “When Pete and I were together, he was living a pretty cushy life. At that point his dark days were few and far between. Whatever was bothering him was something he’d buried pretty deep.”

  “But he never told you what it was?”

  “He never said anything about it at all. Pete hated discussing private stuff. Besides, when he and I had a chance to see each other, we had much better things to do than sit around and talk about the past.”

  “So if Pete didn’t talk to you about his problems, who did?”

  “Kenny.”

  That wasn’t a name I’d heard before. “Who’s Kenny?”

  “Pete’s best friend from the time they were little kids. The two of them grew up on the same block. They went to the same schools. Those guys did everything together when they were young. Pete was the quarterback on the football team, Kenny was a wide receiver. Pete started Streamline here in Stonebridge, Kenny sells insurance on the other side of town. If you want to know stuff about Pete’s early life, you should talk to Kenny. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t already done so.”

  When she put it like that, I was too. I’d been in Stonebridge for most of the week, so how come this was the first time I was hearing about him?

  “Of course, he probably isn’t going to want to talk to you,” Olivia added.

  “Why is that?”

  “The two of them didn’t part company on the best of terms.”

  Like I hadn’t heard that before. “What went wrong?”

  “Same old story, I guess. Kenny wasn’t the only one of Pete’s buddies who got scammed, but he took it more personally than most. Pete came to him with a surefire business idea. Said the two of them would be partners; he just needed some money for start-up costs. Pete told Kenny they’d be rolling in dough in six months.”

  “I assume that didn’t happen?” I said.

  “Not even close. Probably there was never any kind of deal in the works. By that time whatever money Pete managed to score was going straight into the bottle. Kenny certainly should have known better. But Pete could be very convincing when he wanted to be. And Kenny trusted his best friend to do right by him.”

  “I can understand why he would be bitter. That sounds like a terrible betrayal.” I considered for a minute then added, “But what I don’t understand is why Kenny would talk about Pete’s private problems with you.”


  Olivia polished off the last of her smoothie and stood up. She crossed the room in three quick strides and flicked the empty plastic cup into a recycling bin. “I thought you knew,” she said.

  “Knew what?”

  “In Stonebridge everyone has the dirt on everyone else’s lives. I just assumed someone would have told you.”

  I hated to ask again but I couldn’t help it. “Told me what?”

  Olivia swept her duffel bag up off the floor and hooked the strap over her shoulder. “Kenny wasn’t just Pete’s best friend. He’s also my ex-husband.”

  I think my mouth was still hanging open when she disappeared through the doorway.

  * * *

  In a town the size of Stonebridge it wasn’t difficult to locate a guy named Kenny who sold insurance. I didn’t expect to find him in his office on a Sunday, but like most salesmen he was eager to be accessible to potential clients. Kenny listed alternate phone numbers where he could be reached 24/7. So I gave him a call on his cell phone.

  Kenny picked up after just two rings. His ex-wife had spent the morning at the gym. Kenny was at a dog park. That was a lucky break. Maybe he and I could bond over our mutual love of dogs.

  Kenny told me he had a Great Dane named Rufus. I told him I had five Standard Poodles. He asked me if I was interested in discussing liability insurance. He informed me that someone with multiple large dogs ought to have an umbrella policy in place. I said I was interested in discussing his former good buddy, Pete Dempsey.

  That was when Kenny hung up.

  A brief internet search supplied directions to Stonebridge’s only dog park. When I arrived, there were six dogs racing around the large enclosure. A harlequin Great Dane was playing tag with a Border Collie that looked agile enough to run rings around him. A brindle Boxer appeared ready to join their game. I was betting that the Dane’s name was Rufus.

  Five minutes of watching from my car allowed me to match most of the dogs with their owners. Kenny was tall and skinny with watery blue eyes and a prominent nose. Dressed in a woolen peacoat, standing with his shoulders hunched forward and his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans, he looked like he was freezing. I got out of my car and ambled over.