by Lori Wilde
“Don’t move or you’ll frighten Brutus,” the woman said. “You almost stepped on him. He’s right by your left foot.” She tipped her head, her expression more than a little accusatory. “He just escaped from the bath. Didn’t you see Brutus when you came in?”
Obviously not or he wouldn’t have almost stepped on him. Trent glanced around and didn’t immediately see anything. But after learning what a Pookie was, Trent wasn’t certain he wanted to know what a Brutus might be. Probably a big ol’ ugly snake. Or maybe a tarantula.
But curiosity got to him, so he looked down anyway, then breathed a sigh of relief.
Brutus was a little bitty fluffball.
“What kind of animal is that?” he had to ask.
The woman frowned. “A puppy, of course. What in the world did you think he was?”
Trent studied the round, white ball of fur with two black specks for eyes. “He kinda looks like a dust bunny.”
The woman moved forward and picked up the puppy off the floor. “A dust bunny. Sheesh. He’s a sweetheart, aren’t you, baby?”
Obviously knowing he was being praised, Brutus let out a series of yips and yaps. Trent would give the puppy credit—he had an impressive bark for something that looked like a ball of lint. No wonder the dog had a tough name like Brutus. He needed every advantage he could get.
“Is there something I can help you with?” the woman asked, still cradling the dog.
“I’m Trent Barrett, chief of police here in Honey.” He extended his hand, which the woman shook in a firm, no-nonsense handshake. Just like the pup, the woman might look small and fragile, but she was stronger than she appeared. Her grip would do a lumberjack proud.
“I’m Erin Weber. I own Precious Pets.” Brutus started squirming, so Erin put the puppy down. The furball immediately trotted over and tugged on Trent’s shoelaces.
“Hey, mutt, cut it out,” he said.
“Brutus might not be a pedigree, but he’s hardly a mutt,” Erin defended. “He’s a rescue.”
“I didn’t mean mutt in a negative way.”
“Mutt is a word that has no positive connotations,” she countered. “Even though he’s from the animal shelter, Brutus has a great deal of dignity.” Trent grinned as he watched the pup chew on the shoelaces of his best boots. “Is that a fact? He has dignity?”
Erin frowned. “Of course.”
Trent tried to wipe the grin off his face, but the dang thing refused to budge. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
There was a loud rapping on the front door, then Delia hollered, “Have you arrested her yet?”
Erin frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Delia Haverhill. Do you know her?”
“Yes. I met her last weekend. Who does she want you to arrest?”
Brutus had settled down on one of Trent’s shoes, apparently to take a nap, so Trent bent down and scooped him up. The dog panted and yipped at him and looked like he might leak from either end, so Trent handed Brutus back to Erin.
“Arrest her, Trent. Do it right now,” Delia continued hollering through the door. “How dare she take Pookie!”
Erin was staring at the door to her shop, obviously befuddled. “Um, what does she—”
Trent blew out a sigh. “I’m afraid Delia wants me to arrest you for stealing her Pookie.”
**
Erin couldn’t have heard this man correctly. There was absolutely no way she could have heard him correctly. No one had a reason to want her arrested.
Pushing away her initial panic, she politely asked, “Excuse me? Did you say you’re arresting me?”
Trent Barrett smiled, a slow, sexy, lady-killer smile. Erin absolutely refused to react to his smile. Her days of falling for handsome but unreliable men were over. So what if he was tall, with deep-black hair and the most amazing blue eyes? He wasn’t her type. Nope. Not at all.
And even if he was her type—which he wasn’t—she could hardly be attracted to a man who might arrest her.
“I said Delia wants me to arrest you, but I’m only here to ask a couple of questions,” he explained.
The woman outside the front door banged on the glass again. “I’m serious, Trent; I expect results.”
Confrontation in any form always made Erin uncomfortable—at least it used to. But since her wedding day fiasco, she’d worked hard at becoming more assertive. These days, she really tried to stand up for herself. She couldn’t imagine what she had done to Delia Haverhill that had made her so angry, but Erin wasn’t about to be intimidated either by the handsome chief of police or the irate woman outside.
“Look, Chief Barrett—”
“Trent,” he said.
Erin shook her head. “No, I’ll call you Chief Barrett, if you don’t mind.”
Once again, he flashed a flirty grin that Erin suspected usually reduced any female within a two-mile radius into a fluttery mass of jelly. Too bad for the chief that she was now flutter-proof. Okay, not one hundred percent flutter-proof but close to it.
“So, Chief Barrett, whatever Delia thinks I’ve done, I haven’t. I have never broken the law.”
“I appreciate that, Ms. Weber. Delia is upset about Pookie.”
Erin took a deep, calming breath and tried again. “You said that pookie thing before. What in the world is a pookie?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and inviting, but Erin ignored it. Well, tried to, and came pretty darn close.
“Pookie is the name of Delia’s plastic rabbit which used to reside in her garden and is now sitting in front of your store. Delia seems to think you had something to do with Pookie’s relocation.”
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let me put Brutus in his carrier, then I want to see this Pookie.”
Trent nodded. “Seems like the best approach, but I’ll warn you, Delia’s a trifle hot under the collar. I’m going to head on outside and give her a couple of pointers on police protocol.”
Erin had to ask, “Such as?”
“Mostly that she’s not allowed to scream and yell while you and I are chatting.”
“I don’t think you should call interrogating me about a plastic rabbit chatting, Chief.”
“I don’t think you should call what I’m going to be doing interrogating, Ms. Weber.”
Erin didn’t want to soften toward Trent Barrett, for a lot of reasons, but she had to admit, he hadn’t done anything too terrible. At least not so far.
“I’ll put Brutus in his carrier and be outside in a sec,” she repeated, not as nervous as she’d been before.
“I’ll go talk to Delia.”
Although Brutus didn’t appreciate being put into his dog carrier, he accepted his fate with as much good grace as a feisty puppy could manage. Then Erin smoothed her green T-shirt that read Precious Pets and her beige slacks.
She took a series of calming breaths following the techniques she’d read about to reduce tension and said the affirmations the book had advised: “You’re powerful. You’re strong. You’re filled with energy.”
Then she headed to the front door, her steps decisive, her head held high. She’d just moved to this town and opened her business. Sure, the people of Honey didn’t know her. But she wasn’t a thief, and Delia Haverhill was about to learn that fact.
Feeling ready, Erin stepped outside and noticed two things—first, that Trent must have had a really intense talking to with Delia, because the older woman had her mouth clamped shut and looked about to explode.
And second, she noticed that Pookie was one sad and sorry-looking plastic bunny rabbit.
Going on the offensive, Erin said to Delia, “I’m so sorry about what happened to you, but I didn’t take your rabbit. I have no idea how it came to be in front of my store. But I’m glad you found it and can put it back in your garden.”
Delia continued to glare. “If you didn’t put it there, who did?”
“Ah, but if I’d stolen it, why would I display it in fron
t of my store where you’d readily see it? Wouldn’t I hide Pookie so I could keep him?”
A tiny fragment of doubt crossed the older woman’s face. Erin knew Delia was now a little less sure.
“Delia,” Trent said softly. “Remember what we talked about before you say anything.”
Delia eventually made a noise that sounded like “hmmrrphfft” but didn’t say anything else. Erin frankly couldn’t tell if that was a good hmmrrphfft or a bad hmmrrphfft, but at least Delia had stopped demanding that Erin be arrested.
Now Erin turned her attention to Trent, needing his help to solve this mystery. “Honestly, I have no idea how that statue—”
“Pookie,” Delia said. “His name is Pookie.”
Erin nodded. “Right. Pookie. Well, anyway, I have no idea how Pookie came to be in front of my store.”
“You have to know something,” Delia said. “Did you see anyone lurking around?”
“Delia,” Trent said again, raising one eyebrow and giving the woman a look that Erin could only call marginally polite. “I’m sure if Ms. Weber had seen anyone lurking, she would have called the police whether or not they’d been carrying a pookie.”
“Hmmrrphfft,” Delia said again.
“You didn’t notice Pookie outside when you came to work this morning?” Trent asked.
Erin only wished she had. Although, truthfully, even if she had seen Pookie, she probably wouldn’t have called the police to report a plastic bunny. “I didn’t see it because I live in the apartment above my shop. I don’t come in through the front door. I come down the back stairs.”
While Trent wrote a few things in a small notebook, Erin looked at Delia. She felt sorry for the older woman. Delia was obviously very upset. “Delia, I want you to know I would never steal Pookie. I know what it’s like to have people take things that belong to you. I can imagine how upset you were when you discovered Pookie missing. He’s such an...er...um, attractive rabbit. He must bring you a great deal of joy.”
Delia’s expression softened, but just a minuscule amount. She still pretty much looked like she wanted Erin beheaded.
“Yes, Pookie is dear to me,” Delia said.
Erin reached out and patted the battered plastic animal. “He’s sweet. You must have missed him.”
Delia held the statue close. “He is sweet, which is why someone stole him.”
Erin deliberately ignored the baiting tone in the woman’s voice. Instead, she said, “I’m so glad you got him back. When I was in first grade, one of the boys stole my lunch box, which I loved. I was devastated. I ran home and cried and cried.”
Delia’s expression softened a little more around the edges. “What kind of lunch box was it?”
“Scooby-Doo. And I loved that lunch box. I was so proud of it. I couldn’t believe it was gone.”
Delia nodded. “Scooby-Doo is a good choice. So, did you get the lunch box back?”
“No. Although I knew who took it, no one would believe me. My parents said I’d probably lost it on the bus and wouldn’t buy me another because they felt I’d been careless. My teacher said I’d probably lost it at home somewhere and didn’t believe me when I said Billy Porter had stolen it.”
“You poor thing,” Delia said, patting her on the arm.
“The worst part was that a couple of months later, Billy started coming to school carrying the Scooby-Doo lunch box. I could even see where he’d marked out my name and written his own. I was so upset, but no one would do anything, so I had to ignore it. But it was hard to ignore since Billy liked to tease me by saying ‘Don’t you wish you had a lunch box as nice as mine?’”
“That rat,” Delia huffed. “Someone should have taught that boy a lesson.”
Erin looked Delia directly in the eye. “I agree. What Billy did was horrible. That’s why I would never, ever take something that didn’t belong to me. As you can tell, I still to this day remember the Scooby-Doo lunch box incident.”
Delia patted her arm again. “You poor thing.”
Trent cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but, Ms. Weber, do you have any idea who might have left Pookie outside your store?”
Delia spun around and glared at him, her hands on her wide hips. “Trent Barrett, have you no manners?”
Both Trent and Erin looked at each other. He seemed as baffled by Delia’s comment as she was.
Trent explained. “Delia, I’m trying to find out about Pookie. I thought that was what you wanted me to do.”
Delia pointed one finger at him. “You should have sympathized about the lunch box first. Then you can ask about Pookie.”
Trent turned to Erin, his deep-blue eyes sparkling with humor. She could tell he was trying hard not to smile. To his credit, he managed to look sincere when he said, “My deepest apologies,” he said. “I’m so sorry to hear about your loss.”
“Thank you.” Now Erin had to keep from smiling at the mischievous look in Trent’s eyes. The man was a flirt, plain and simple. She could tell from the way he was looking at her that he found her attractive.
“Now that I’ve paid my respects to your lost Scooby-Doo lunch box, do you have any idea how Pookie came to be outside your store?” he asked.
“None at all,” she admitted and glanced at Delia. “I really am sorry this happened to you.”
Delia patted her arm yet again. “I appreciate your concern. And I realize now that you couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with Pookie’s disappearance. Not when you’ve suffered yourself. Trent will have to figure out who really did it.”
Erin was relieved the other woman believed her. Not only would she hate to think someone blamed her for a theft, but it wouldn’t do Precious Pets any good if everyone started thinking badly of her.
“I’m not done asking questions,” Trent said to Delia.
Delia shook her head. “No more questions. She didn’t do it. Enough said. Go on back to your office and arrest someone else. I’m going to visit with Erin for a bit.” She glanced at the store. “Do you let the local shelters list dogs and cats so they can find forever homes? I didn’t pay that much attention when I was here with my grandson last Saturday. You remember Zach, don’t you?”
Erin smiled. It would be difficult to forget the eight-year-old. He’d asked a million questions while Delia had visited with the mayor and his wife.
“Yes, I remember Zach. Yes, I help the local animal shelter find homes for the strays. A couple times a month, they bring a few of their pets here to see if my customers are interested in adopting. And then sometimes, I act as a foster home to a kitten or a puppy. Right now, I’m taking care of a puppy named Brutus. He’s a sweetie and needs a good home.”
“Let me take a look at him. Also, do you sell birdseed? I have a new bird feeder that looks like the Tower of Pisa. I need to stock it.”
Erin smiled, relaxing for the first time since this whole mess had started. Even though she knew all along that she hadn’t done a thing wrong, just the threat of being arrested made her jittery and jumpy. She was used to always being the good girl. The good daughter. The good student. The good fiancée.
She wouldn’t know how to be bad if someone gave her lessons.
“I have several types of birdseed,” Erin told Delia, thrilled the woman was now being friendly. “I’m certain I have something that will work for you.”
She turned to look at the handsome chief of police. Her pulse rate picked up, but she ignored it. Even Pookie, the plastic bunny rabbit statue, was smart enough to know a man like Trent Barrett was trouble.
“Are we done?” she asked him.
He grinned, his look downright flirtatious. His blue eyes sparkled once again with mischief, and Erin’s first instinct was to smile back at him. Thankfully, her common sense kicked in, and she stopped herself. Smiling at Trent struck her as an activity only a tiny bit less dangerous than carrying around a lit stick of dynamite. The man was a handsome devil all right.
When she didn’t return his smile, he only grinned bigger
. She could tell he found her amusing, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to flirt with this man no matter how tempting it might be.
“You’re no longer a suspect in Pookie’s kidnapping,” Trent finally said. “But I’d say we’re far from done.”
With that and a goodbye to Delia, he walked away. Erin frowned. What did he mean by that crack that they were far from done?
“Woo-wee, that boy is a charmer. All of those Barrett boys are,” Delia said as they watched Trent Barrett leave. “But that one, he’s a flirt through and through. A mighty fine-looking man, but a flirt, that’s for sure.”
“Mmm.” Erin didn’t want to discuss Trent Barrett. The man made her...pensive. And pensive could be bad for her emotional health.
Delia yanked open the door to the shop and headed straight for the birdseed. “You have a wonderful selection.”
“Thanks.” Erin helped her pick just the right type for the birds she wanted to attract. Then after introducing Delia to Brutus, she rang up the older woman’s order.
“Sure you don’t want to adopt this puppy? He’s a great little fellow,” Erin tried, even though Delia had already made it clear she thought Brutus was way too active.
“Brutus isn’t right for me. Does he have any sisters?”
Erin hid her disappointment. Delia wasn’t the first person to ask that. So far, Erin had sent three people to the county animal shelter to see Brutus’ sisters.
Well, an adopted animal was one more with a home, so Erin told Delia, “Yes. The shelter has several females left from the litter.”
Delia eyed Brutus, who was now gnawing on Erin’s sneaker. “Yes, I think one of the girls might suit me better. I’ll go over there this afternoon.”
Erin reached down and detached Brutus from her shoe, telling him firmly, “No, Brutus.” Then she said to Delia, “I’m sure you’ll find a wonderful dog to love.”
“I’m sure I will, too.” Just as the older woman was about to leave, she said, “Hon, before I go, I wanted to say I’m so sorry about the mix-up this morning. I only hope Trent finds the people who stole Pookie. They deserve to be in jail.”