Heir of the Dog

by Judi McCoy

  If only she could wade through the mire of Gary’s death and figure out what the devastating detective really wanted from her, she might be able to go on without him.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning dawned cool and bright, though Ellie was certain the temperature would return to the nineties as the day wore on. She’d pulled a thin black sweater over her hot pink T-shirt, planning to store it in her tote bag when the heat arrived. Now she and Viv stood on the sidewalk in front of their building, catching up on the past two days.

  “Come on, spill. What happened between you and Dr. Dave the other night?” Ellie asked her.

  Already dressed in a sleeveless red linen sheath, Viv had time before she was due at her office and was more than eager to talk as they walked their dogs—but not about her date. “Never mind about me and Dr. Dave. What about you and Kevin McGowan?”

  “Kevin can wait. The big news concerns Rudy. To put it plainly, he’s a rich puppy, and it’s my job to manage the wealth.”

  Ellie grinned when Viv stopped in her tracks and opened and closed her mouth. It wasn’t often her wise-cracking friend was at a loss for words.

  “I know,” she said, hoping to bring Viv out of her stupor. “I barely believe it myself. It’s downright embarrassing telling people you got a bequest from a homeless person.”

  Viv blinked. “Are you telling me there was actual cash money in that safety-deposit box?”

  “Over eight hundred thousand dollars. I just can’t imagine what to do with it all. Probably give it away or—”

  “Say what!” yipped Rudy, midpee.

  “Say what?” echoed Viv.

  “I’m seriously thinking of donating it to Best Friends, that wonderful no-kill shelter in Utah, or maybe sharing it with them and the ASPCA on Ninety-second, because without their care Rudy and I might never have found each other. I’ll do it in Gary’s name, of course. I’m sure he’d approve.”

  “Hang on. I’m still trying to absorb the details.” Viv put a hand on her hip and waited for Mr. T to do his morning business. “Gary Veridot, a homeless bum, left you and your dog over half a million bucks? Do I have that right?”

  Ellie nodded.

  “Holy shit. That’s un-fucking-believable.”

  “I agree. And we did nothing to deserve it.” She dropped her tone to a near whisper in hopes that Rudy wouldn’t hear. “That’s why I’m giving it to charity.”

  “Don’t go off the deep end. Give those animal charities a share, but keep the rest. Take a vacation, pay Georgette the money you owe her, buy a better wardrobe, do something nice for yourself.” Viv’s shapely brows drew together in concentration; then she snapped her fingers. “I have a brilliant idea. How long has it been since you’ve seen the Dickhead?”

  They reached the corner and reversed direction, heading back toward home. Cheech and Chong squatted beside a trash can, and Ellie cleaned up before answering. “Larry? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “The money is a perfect excuse to doll yourself up—hair, makeup, the works. Buy some bling and pay him a visit. Tell him you have a half million you want to invest and you need a good accountant, so maybe he could recommend someone. But don’t offer him the job. That ought to make him cry loud and long, the way he made you cry when you realized you’d thrown away ten of the best years of your life on the schmuck.”

  “Revenge never made anyone feel better, not in the end. Besides, I don’t want him to know that he sometimes crosses my mind . . . even when I wish he was floating on an iceberg somewhere in the Arctic Circle.”

  “Are you kidding? Remember Slim Jim? After I took care of him, I walked on air for a month.”

  “Six foot four and lean as a string bean. The man had nerve, picking up with his old girlfriend while he was still dating you, then denying it when you found out. I told you I didn’t think he was playing with a full deck.”

  “Sometimes I wonder what he did with the eight cartons of protein powder I ordered online and had delivered to his apartment the day before I cancelled his credit cards and hacked them to pieces. And I would have paid money to see his face when the new-old girlfriend thanked him for those two-carat diamond studs she received via special messenger from Tiffany. They cost him six thousand, if I remember correctly.” Viv grinned. “Proving that it never hurts to check the info in a man’s wallet before you get too far along in the relationship.”

  They stopped in front of their building, where Ellie asked, “Which brings me back to Dr. Dave. What happened between the two of you?”

  “Truth?”

  “No, lie to me.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Of course I want the truth.”

  “Nothing.” Viv’s innocent expression screamed honesty. “Absolutely zero.”

  “What?”

  “We walked Mr. T, and Dave was a perfect gentleman—held the umbrella, scooped T’s poop, the whole nine yards. Then he dropped me off at my door and said a polite good night. Didn’t even ask for my phone number.” Instead of climbing the steps, she propped her model-perfect bottom on the balustrade. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so unattractive—or so confused.”

  “You want me to call him, do some fishing?”

  “Don’t you dare.” Viv ran a hand through her fall of silky dark hair. “I have my pride.”

  “Unfortunately, I know what you mean.”

  “Hmm, that statement suggests you’ve seen Detective Ryder.”

  “Do I sound that miserable?” When Viv didn’t comment, Ellie sat beside her on the railing. “He makes my blood boil . . . in too many ways.”

  “I assume he knows about the money.”

  “He was with me when I opened the safety-deposit box, and he wasn’t a control freak or a pain in the ass, either. It’s what he did last night that has me fried.”

  “Last night?”

  “I had a date with Kevin McGowan—”

  “I know. You asked me to take care of Rudy and the Chihuahuas, remember?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I forgot. Anyway, after Kevin brought me home I entered the foyer and found Sam lying in wait like some nutty stalker. He scared the crap out of me.”

  “And . . .”

  She wanted to forget about Sam’s potent good night kiss but knew Viv should hear the rest of the story. “He came along when I walked the dogs, and we talked. He had some news to share.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what.”

  “It’s not brain surgery. Thompson Veridot served his thirty years, and he’s been out of jail for the past several months. Sam thinks he returned to Manhattan, found Gary, and killed him.”

  Viv put a hand over her mouth. “Shut up!”

  “Wish I could, but it’s true.”

  “Oh, my God. Does he think you’re next?”

  “He thinks I could be. Especially since Gary left a note in the safety-deposit book saying he was sure that if he was killed his brother would be the one to do it.”

  “Gary left a note?”

  “I’ll show it to you later, but the gist of it was that if Gary turned up dead he expected Rudy and me to find Thompson Veridot and bring him to justice.”

  “No wonder Sam’s worried.”

  “There’s no concrete proof Veridot murdered his brother. We don’t even know if he’s in town. Sam’s going to call the warden and try to get a current photo—like that’s supposed to help.”

  “And what else did Sam want?” Viv checked her watch and headed up the stairs. “Don’t answer that. I have to get moving. Are you home tonight?”

  “Far as I know.”

  “Great.” She held open the door, and Ellie brought her charges inside. “I’ll be over after work, and I want to hear the rest of the story.” Waving good-bye, she and Mr. T disappeared into their apartment.

  Ellie escorted her houseguests upstairs, collected their beds, and filled their bag with leftover food and treats. Janice Fallgrave should be home sometime today, and the singer expected to see Cheech and Chong when she got there. B
ack on the sidewalk in ten minutes, Ellie stepped to the curb, hailed a cab, and instructed the driver to drop her and the three canines at the Beaumont.

  “Good morning, Natter,” she said to the doorman when they arrived. “Looks like another nice day.”

  “Sure does,” he replied. Then he nodded at the Chihuahuas. “Good to have the rodents back in residence. Miss Janice will be happy to see them.”

  “Do me a favor? Keep Rudy while I bring up Cheech and Chong and their luggage and collect the other dogs? I’ll be down with the crew in a couple of minutes.”

  Natter took Rudy’s leash. “There’s no need to rush.”

  Ellie did as promised, returned with her charges, retrieved her pal, and led the pack to the park.

  “Did Viv really do what she said she did to that Jim guy’s credit cards?” asked Rudy as they strolled down the sidewalk.

  “Not only did she wield the scissors, she enjoyed every minute of it. Don’t cross Viv . . . ever.”

  “Vivie loves me.”

  “Not as much as I do,” Ellie teased.

  “I thought you said she was gonna be my guardian?”

  “We’ve discussed it, but there’s nothing in writing.”

  He put on the brakes and skidded to a stop. “What?”

  She struggled with the leads and calmed the grousing canines. “Hang on a second, everybody. Rudy and I have to talk.” Sitting on a bench, she raised an eyebrow. “There’s no need to get upset. Viv and I decided to share responsibility for you and Mr. T. We just haven’t made it legal.”

  “How can you be so . . . so unconcerned? If anything happened to you, I’d be toast.”

  “Don’t be a nitwit. Viv would take you to live with her and T, and if not her, I’m sure Mother would. Stanley would insist.”

  “Georgette? After what happened the last time she had me in her clutches? Are you high?”

  “Speaking of the last time she had you, I’m still waiting to hear the story. When are you going to tell me how you ended up on Park Avenue in front of a speeding taxi?”

  “Forget about the past.The judge could die any day, and your old lady doesn’t care about anyone but herself.”

  “You’re not being fair. She’s doing okay with Stanley.”

  “Don’t be surprised if something bad happens to him, too. She’s not exactly Mother Teresa.”

  “Okay, so she won’t win mother of the year, but she isn’t mean.” Ellie crossed mental fingers. “Georgette might not be an animal lover, but she’d follow my instructions.”

  Rudy sidled up to Lulu, instead of answering. “If your owner kicks it, who’s supposed to be your caregiver?”

  The self-absorbed Havanese held her tail high. “I have no idea, but I’m sure there’d be a dozen people clamoring for the right to have me as their own. I’ve won a dozen Best of Breeds this past year, and a few Best in Shows, too.”

  Ellie listened to the dogs chatter as she led them into the park, let them do their thing, and returned them to the Beaumont. Gary’s will and Rudy demanding security for his future made her think. Maybe it was time she and Viv put things in writing, as they’d said. Uncle Sal could do it, and he wouldn’t blab to her mother, either.

  After dropping off each dog, passing biscuits, and writing the owner a report, she and Rudy moved on to the Davenport, where they met the dapper doorman tipping his hat to all who passed. “Good morning, Randall,” Ellie said as they walked inside. “Is anything new going on?”

  “Not a thing. How about your um . . . business?”

  “You mean Gary’s will?”

  He huffed out a breath. “Please don’t tell me you’ve gotten into more trouble.”

  “Me? Not a chance. I met with that attorney and registered the will like I was supposed to. Seeing to Gary’s final request is next on my list.”

  “You mean his cremation?” Randall knitted his craggy brow. “Sorry, it’s not a pleasant topic.”

  “Definitely not, but it is a part of life. I plan to go to the police station after lunch and see if they’re ready to release the body.”

  She and Rudy rode the elevator up, collected their charges, and headed for the park. When her phone rang as they crossed Fifth Avenue, she led the dogs to a bench and took the call. “Ellie here.”

  “It’s Hilary.” The woman gave a loud sniff. “I won’t be able to take care of the dogs this morning.”

  “What’s wrong? Is it your ex?”

  Hilary’s sob told her all she needed to know. “I—I—he—he—Come over, please. We have to talk.”

  Ellie gathered the dogs in Hilary Blankenship’s building before she went to her assistant’s aid. When the door opened, Hilary’s blotchy face, red-rimmed eyes, and unkempt appearance wrenched at Ellie’s heart.

  “Come on, Hilary,” she said, standing in the doorway. “It’ll do you good to get out. I’ll handle the dogs, and we can talk as we walk.”

  “I can’t let anyone see me looking like this.” Hilary ran a hand over her wrinkled silk blouse. “I’m just so angry.”

  “A little fresh air will make things better. Hurry up, put on your shoes.”

  Ten minutes later they crossed the avenue with Hilary wearing a huge pair of sunglasses and Ellie in charge of Millie, Cuddles, Sampson, Dilbert, and Rudy. “Now, tell me what’s wrong. Is there something I can do to help?”

  “You can answer a question,” said Hilary. “Has anyone gotten in touch with you to ask about my employment?”

  “You mean as my assistant? Certainly not, and even if they did, I’d probably tell whoever it was that it’s none of their business. Why?”

  “Because Richard called at the crack of dawn and told me he knew I was working. When we appear in court, he’s going to make sure the judge knows, too. I have no idea how he found out, but he did.”

  “Maybe he’s friends with one of the dog owners in the building. You told me he hadn’t met the Lowen steins, but what about the Eastons or the Parkers?”

  “Possibly. Then again, he wasn’t much for socializing with the other tenants. Is there some way you can find out?”

  “I can call them and ask if they’ve spoken with him, but that’s about it.” She and Hilary took a seat on a park bench. “Did you tell him how little you were making? It hardly puts a dent in the amount you want for support.”

  “I tried, but he knows it’s off the books and insinuated I could make a lot more if I went out on my own and set up my own dog-walking service.” She sighed. “I never thought he’d use my getting a job against me.”

  “Have you phoned your lawyer?”

  “He’s in court, but I left word.” She dabbed her red nose. “I imagine he’ll get back to me when he can.”

  “It’s never easy to second-guess an ex. My husband didn’t want to give me a penny, either. In the end, I got the condo, though it came with a big fat mortgage, but it was worth it to be out from under his thumb. If things work out, I’m sure you’ll feel the same. Just give it some time.”

  Ellie stood when the dogs grumped and pulled at their leads, and encouraged Hilary to walk with her. After the animals did their thing, the women headed for home. At Hilary’s door, Ellie said, “I’ll make a few phone calls and let you know what I find out. Will you be okay with the afternoon shift?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to be.” Hilary inhaled a breath. “Thanks so much for listening. I appreciate it.”

  “That woman is trouble,” said Rudy when he and Ellie rode down in the elevator. “Next thing you know, you’ll be in the hot seat, testifying in front of a pickle-faced judge during her divorce proceedings.”

  “I don’t see that happening. All I can attest to is how much I pay Hilary, and it’s barely enough to cover her condo fees. Her husband can’t possibly think she’s able to live on such a trivial amount.”

  “It’s not her husband who counts. It’s the judge.”

  “True, but I wonder who her husband’s lawyer is.”

  “Sounds like he’s the bad
ass in all of this. Which reminds me . . .”

  “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you have another lawyer joke.”

  “Come on, play along. It’s a good one.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, but just one.”

  Rudy cleared his throat, as if ready to spout Shake speare. “Why don’t lawyers go to the beach?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

  “You’re no fun. Come on, give it a try.”

  She scrunched her forehead. “I’m lousy at jokes. Can’t ever remember the punch lines.”

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

  They were at the entrance to their next building before she looked down at him. “I’m still waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “The joke, you knucklehead. Why don’t lawyers go to the beach?”

  “That’s easy,” he said with a doggie snigger. “Because the cats keep trying to bury them in the sand.”

  She hid a grin. “You’re impossible.”

  “Aw, come on. Isn’t that what you like best about me?”

  “You’re my true friend. That’s what I like best about you.” They entered the building, this one without a doorman, and took the elevator to the tenth floor, where they picked up the first of seven dogs. Forty-five minutes later, they stopped at Pops’s hot dog stand for lunch.

  “Ellie, Rudy.” The elderly vendor nodded. “Where you two been lately?”

  She removed her sweater and stuffed it into her tote before answering. As she’d suspected, the afternoon sun had kicked the temperature into the high eighties, and it was just twelve o’clock. “I had errands to run the last few days. I’m still sorting out Gary’s death.”

  Pops opened his hopper and reached for their usual order: one dog with mustard and sauerkraut, one plain, and passed it to her. “Did that envelope I gave you help or was it more trouble?”

  “Actually, a bit of both.” She juggled the hot dogs as she accepted a can of Diet Coke. Thinking it might be time the vendor knew what Gary had done, she informed him of the will. “Now that you know the story, do you mind if I ask a few questions?”