He watched in silence—not counting his yapping dog—as I pried the hubcap off, then tried to loosen the first lug nut. Uh oh. The blasted lug nuts had been machine tightened. I might need a sledgehammer to get them off.
“All right, then. Tell you what,” he said. “How about I change your tire, then you buy me a cup of coffee.”
Talk about not taking “no” for an answer. Does this guy wander around neighborhoods, searching for flat tires to change?
“Sorry. I don’t think so.” I kept my attention on the tire, wondering how long I could stall. I’d changed enough tires with machine-tightened lug nuts to know what I was in for. I was going to have to stand and possibly bounce on the end of the wrench till the lug nut budged and I fell off my precarious perch. This was not the kind of dignified process for which I wanted to have a witness.
“Joel!” a deep yet feminine voice called from the bottom of the hill. “Don’t be a dolt! Change the lady’s tire!” I whirled around and spotted Tracy Truett heading down the sidewalk toward us.
Caught off guard by Tracy’s unexpected appearance, I let Joel take the wrench out of my hand and replace it with the leash to his dog. He had the lug nuts loose by the time Tracy reached us.
Tracy was breathing hard and sweating profusely, despite the chill in the air, as she strode up the hill. She was wearing a navy blue knit top and matching pants, with a black cape around her shoulders that rippled in the wind. With her spiky hair and impressive size, she looked as if she might have come straight out of the comic pages—Batman’s villain, Big She-Bat.
“We meet again,” she said to me, smiling broadly. She pointed down at my small office window, which afforded me a little light and views of pedestrians’ ankles. “That your office?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I got your address off your flier. Got any coffee?”
After finding the body of a murdered client, now I was supposed to have coffee with Tracy Truett? What was next? A game of badminton with Darth Vader? “I’m afraid you caught me on the wrong day. I don’t have any cups.”
“I’ll drink it straight from the pot.” She grabbed the leash from my hand and started to lead Joel’s dog toward my office. She said over her shoulder, “Joel can come join us as soon as he’s finished. Come on, Suzanne.”
I thanked Joel, let Doppler out of my car, then said, “By the way, my name’s Allida, not Suzanne.”
“I know. Suzanne is the dog’s name.”
Joel’s mutt yipped fiercely at Doppler, aggression which Doppler returned. He was squaring off, prepared to defend his space.
“Shut up, Suzanne,” Tracy said, then looked at me. “Unpleasant little dog. Joel takes her everywhere.”
I started coffee brewing, wishing I could just curl into the fetal position until Tracy and crew left. By the time I’d returned my attention to her, she was comfortably settled into my desk chair, pushing herself back and forth a quarter turn or so, while Suzanne sat in her lap and, from this safe perch, barked at Doppler. The racket was getting to me. I was off duty now and didn’t want to deal with bark management. I swept up my dog, though he had every reason in the world to bark, and marched toward Russell’s office. Sage was napping on Russell’s couch, but opened his eyes as we entered. “Good dog,” I reassured him, then left Doppler.
“I take it Joel’s a friend of yours?” I asked as I returned to my human visitor.
She nodded, then grimaced. “This is every bit as unpleasant as I imagined.”
“My office?”
“No, my coming here. To apologize.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“‘Course I do. Why else would I be here, hung over as all hell?”
“I don’t know. To coerce your friend Joel to change my tire, perhaps?”
“Nah. He wanted to come. In fact, we spotted you out there with your flat tire while I was looking for a parking spot, and he asked for a minute alone with you.”
“Why?”
“He’s got the hots for you.”
I was too surprised to say anything.
“You’d be amazed how many men called the station yesterday to ask about you. Must have been at least five.” She chuckled, then settled back in my chair. “Well, all right, two.” She pressed her palms against her spiked hair and muttered, “Holy crow, what a headache I’ve got. Got any aspirin?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Too bad you didn’t land on my show a year ago. I could’ve run a radio dating service and been the hottest thing since sliced toast. Anyway, Joel’s a real decent guy. Used to work for the station and now calls into my show every day.” She sneered and rolled her eyes. “Guess I need to remember to use past tense when referring to my show. But, the long and short of it is, he wants you.”
The timing of this announcement was so bad that my stomach lurched. “Why? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Ask him yourself,” Tracy said, gesturing at the door, where Joel was just entering. “Joel, dear, I was just telling our friend here how you want to ask her out.”
Joel froze and gaped at her, then gave me a sheepish grin. “I’d planned to be charming and tactful.”
“Aah, go ahead, Allida. Go out with the guy. He’s a real peach. Just happens to go for the petite type.” She put both hands on her hips and said in a husky voice, “Though I keep telling you, Joel, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Joel chuckled nervously and smiled at me. “It was never my intention to put you on the spot like this.”
He was being so sweet that I smiled despite my state of inner turmoil. Russell came bounding down the outer steps and burst into my office. He stood back in surprise as he eyed Tracy and Joel, all the while slipping what looked like a greeting card into a pocket of his jacket. He shrugged in my direction. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. You said you had an appointment with a golden retriever. I figured, you’d be out, making a house call.” He stared at the white-and-gray mutt in Tracy’s lap and muttered, “I decided I could get a lot of work done today, with no ringing phones and...” His voice drifted off, and he met my eyes. “I don’t know much about dogs, but aren’t goldens normally a lot bigger than that and kind of yellowish?”
“I never forget a voice,” Tracy said too loudly for the small room. “Tracy Truett,” she said. She rose and stashed Suzanne under her left arm as if the little dog were a football, then pumped Russell’s hand. “You called my radio show yesterday.” She peered down at him. “You sounded taller on the phone.” She turned toward Joel. “Well, guy, this is the Russell who asked Allida out on the show yesterday.” She jabbed his shoulder and laughed with abandon. “Boys, meet your competition.”
Sage was starting to whimper. I opened the door to Russell’s office, half hoping Sage would start barking at Joel to demonstrate he might be the killer. Both dogs raced into the room. Sage did indeed start barking, but at Tracy and the small dog in her arms.
“Oh my gawd!” Tracy shrieked. “Is that the collie that the girl called in about?”
“Yes.” I called for Sage, and he came right over to me, but maintained a rhythmic, nervous bark. Tracy narrowed her eyes as she watched us. “I remember.” She snapped her fingers. “Beth Gleason. Where is she?”
“She...” I paused, hesitant at the thought that, for all I knew, Tracy Truett would be on another radio station tomorrow, blabbing about Beth Gleason’s death and running listener surveys. “She’s dead. I’m sure you’ll be reading about it in tomorrow’s paper.”
“Dead?”
“That woman who called your show yesterday?” Russell asked in shock. “She’s dead? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Somebody stabbed her. Early this afternoon.”
“If it’d help, I’d be more than happy to watch after her dog for a while, provided my dog gets along with him,” Joel offered.
“I’ll watch him. Sage, I mean,” Russell shot back, moving closer to me despite a nervous glance at the still-barking Sage.
“I don’t have another dog to worry about.”
Joel, I noticed, had taken a step closer to me as well. They were posturing, acting as territorial toward me as a pair of male dogs to a bone. Good thing they weren’t male dogs, or I’d have to shampoo the carpet.
“No, thanks, both of you,” I replied harshly. “I’ll take care of him. He’s...been through a lot.”
“Coffee’s done,” Tracy said. She thrust Suzanne into Joel’s arms, snatched the Pyrex pot off its stand, tore off its lid, and sipped from it as if it were an oversized cup. Just watching her sip that hot liquid made my eyes water. Years of nonstop talking must have anesthetized her mouth.
She glanced around the room at us. “Excuse my lips, but does anybody else want some?”
“No, thanks,” the three of us said in unison.
“My cup’s underneath the sink, catching drips,” I explained to Russell, who was staring at Tracy, utterly appalled.
Suzanne was yipping away at the other dogs, and Sage was barking sporadically and pacing around the room, badly stressed out. Russell was looking more than a little uncomfortable at being surrounded by barking dogs.
I moved toward the door, hoping they’d all take the hint that I wanted them on the other side of it. “It was nice meeting you, Joel. Really. But I’ve got to kick everybody out. I have to take Sage home.”
“Maybe I can call you for a date sometime?”
“Sure, that would be...fine,” I answered, thinking under normal circumstances I’d be both flattered and tempted. Now, though, it was unlikely I’d accept any dates until Beth’s murder was solved and my life began to make sense again.
“I gotta tell you, Allida,” Tracy said, wagging her thumb in Joel’s direction as she set the coffeepot on top of my file cabinet. “I’d take this guy in a second if I were you.”
Russell crossed his arms and glared at Tracy.
She grabbed Joel’s arm and gave him a tug toward the door. “Joel, you’ve got her number; call her sometime. And Russell, if I were you, I’d get myself a pooch if you want to win that chick’s heart.” She swept out the door, closely followed by Joel.
The resulting quiet seemed to turn the room into a vacuum. Russell turned toward me and asked, “How do you feel about goldfish?”
Chapter 9
I excused myself from Russell’s company, ushered both dogs into my car, and drove to my mother’s house. My mother absolutely loves large dogs, and I knew she’d be happy to dogsit Sage for a while. I just wish I’d had the chance to call first. My unexpected visitors had distracted me.
I left Sage in the car so that I could prepare my mom. We went through a repeat of yesterday’s routine on my mother’s doorstep. Doppler was so eager to greet Pavlov that I stepped inside so he could come in, too. Then I said, “I have a bit of a surprise for you.”
I went back out to the car and opened the door. Sage hopped out. My mother had followed me onto the blond brick front porch. She took one look at the collie and said, “Sage.”
“His owner was killed and he needs a temporary home.”
“But I thought she died several weeks ago.”
“I don’t mean Hannah Jones, I mean Beth Gleason. Somebody stabbed Beth to death early this afternoon.” My mother gasped in horror, as I continued, “Sage came to my office and found me. I can’t think of where else to keep him, at least not till I can find a new place to live.” I winced, realizing I’d just blurted that I was shopping for new living quarters.
Mom, however, was so transfixed by the dog as she ran her hands over him that she didn’t take any notice. “My goodness, he has been through a lot, hasn’t he? He’s all skin and bones.” She opened the door, and the three of us went inside.
“He’s starting to eat again. If you can just feed him”— I hesitated as I tried to decide how I wanted this done— “the same amount you give Pavlov, he should be all right. It’s the dog brand he’s used to. But if he seems hesitant or afraid to eat it, you might want to hand feed him the first couple of kibbles.”
Judging from the sounds, Doppler was lapping water from Pavlov’s bowl in the kitchen. Pavlov wanted to investigate Sage. The dogs circled one another, getting each other’s scents. They trotted off shoulder to shoulder into the kitchen, and I silently congratulated myself on my decision to bring him here. A wonderfully even-tempered German shepherd was exactly the right companion for Sage after his traumatic day.
“They get along great,” Mom said. “Good thing Pavlov was spayed. We’d have ourselves collie-shepherd puppies.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t know how long it will take till I can guarantee a good home for him. Could be as much as a month or two.”
She smiled, patting some loose strands of her long braid. “Some mothers babysit their grandchildren. I babysit my children’s dogs. It’s better than nothing.” She gave me a visual once-over. “You’d better hurry home, hadn’t you, sweetie?”
“Why?”
“Don’t you remember? You have a date with one of my flying students. Keith Terrington. We set this up two weeks ago.”
“Oh, no! That’s tonight? I’m not up to it. Do you have his number? I’ll call and explain.”
“Allida, I hate to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but—”
“Since when?”
Undaunted, she continued, “But I have to insist you go ahead and at least explain things to him face-to-face. Just like you and that...louse you were engaged to, his wife ran off with one of his best friends. In fact, he reminds me of you.”
“Then why would I want to date him? I’d have to have some psychological problem to want to date a man my mother thinks is a male counterpart of me.”
Mom met my eyes and said evenly, “Knock it off, Allie. He’s a wonderful man. You’re perfect for each other.”
She’d called me “Allie.” I probably had the only mother on the planet who addressed me by my nickname only when she was starting to get annoyed with me. “Not tonight, we’re not. The only thing that’s perfect for me tonight is a good book, a fireplace, and a dog at my feet.”
“That may be true, Allie, but I had to do a lot of cajoling to convince Keith to...This is not coming out right. My point is, after what happened to your client, I’d feel a lot safer knowing you were with Keith tonight.” Mom looked puzzled for a moment. “Did you just say you were looking for a new place to live?”
“I’d better get going, Mom. Thanks for watching Sage.” I started to open the door, then thought better of it. “I’d better check on him before I go.”
Pavlov, I discovered, was patiently waiting to be let out back. Sage, however, was the epitome of the “hangdog” expression, no longer paying attention to Pavlov or Doppler but lying listlessly in the kitchen.
“Hey, Sage, that’s a good dog,” I said. He didn’t look up, and I sensed he knew I was about to desert him. “You’ll be happy here. Pavlov and Mom are great company.”
“Thanks for giving me second billing,” my mother said.
I smiled at her and opened the door for Pavlov, who took off at a dead run for the fence, letting out her guard dog woofs.
There, a white sedan was just pulling away from the curb alongside the chain-link fence.
Leaving the door open behind me, I charged across the lawn to get the car’s license plate, but soon realized the driver had had too much of a head start. Sage rushed past me and joined Pavlov in barking as they ran along the length of the fence.
“Mom,” I cried as I rushed back inside, “there’s a white sedan just now driving off.” I waggled my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the road and struggled to catch my breath. “It was parked by the fence till the dogs started barking. It was here yesterday around this time, too. Have you ever noticed it?”
She studied my features and said in a deadpan voice, “A white car was parked on County Line Road two nights in a row? Should we alert the National Guard?”
I gritted my teeth. “Mom, Beth Gleaso
n was murdered today after claiming on the radio that her dog witnessed Hannah Jones’s murder. I suspect I’m being followed, and Beth’s dog is currently in your backyard, barking at the very same car I think has been following me!”
She paled. “When you put it that way, it sounds terrible. I think I liked my version better.”
“Mom, you—”
She held up her palms. “Sheriff Millay is a friend of mine. I’ll call him this minute, tell him about this, and ask that he drive by the house every so often. How should I describe the car?”
“A white four-door sedan. I never got a good look at it. But let me tell the sheriff that myself when I—”
“You’ve got to get going back to Boulder. I’ll do the talking to the sheriff.”
“But, I can’t leave Sage here under these circumstances. I’ll get one of my friends from high school to take him for a—”
“Sage will be fine. I’ll keep him inside, in my bedroom tonight. Now quit stalling and get home so you can meet Keith Terrington while you’re both still young.”
“I’m not stalling! This is important! You and Sage could be in danger!”
“Fine. You’ve convinced me.” She threw up her hands and marched to the phone. “I will go ahead and alert the National Guard. Just bear in mind, Allie, that I am still your mother and I am still in charge of making my own decisions.”
“True, and I’m an adult and am in charge of making my own decisions!”
She gestured at me to leave with a flick of her wrist, but started dialing with her other hand. “So go make them, rather than dawdling around here. Sage, Pavlov, and I will be fine.”
Doppler had trotted back beside me, and I realized that in my haste, I hadn’t even shut the back door. I was too angry now to care. “Doppler, heel,” I said, as usual not bothering with the leash. “Fine, Mother. I give up. I’m going, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I strode out the door, Doppler a step behind me.
As I closed the door behind Doppler, Mom called in a cheerful voice, “Have fun on your date, sweetie.”
I drove home in an indescribably foul mood, furious with my mother for treating me like a child. How dare she accuse me of trying to turn my spotting of the white sedan into a stall tactic to miss my date? That certainly wasn’t true, at least not on a conscious level, and even if it were true, it was my business if I was late for a date. Whoever this Keith Terrington was, I was determined to hate him on sight.
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