Murder, She Barked: A Paws & Claws Mystery (A Paws and Claws Mystery)

by Davis, Krista

  My responsibility to Oma came first. I returned, washed my hands, brought more cream to the buffet, and smiled at everyone as though nothing had happened.

  Philip and Aunt Birdie, already back at their table, chuckled about something. I checked everything on the buffet, intending to take a brief break to fetch the GPS receiver. When I passed the front door, high-pitched barking stopped me. Once again, Trixie stood on her hind legs, straining to see through the front door sidelights.

  I opened the door for her, and she trotted in like she owned the place, pleased as punch with herself for having rid the inn of a rat. Laughing with relief that she wasn’t missing again, I told her what a wonderful dog she was. The guests in the dining area even broke into applause when we returned.

  Somehow, that little nightmare reset my mood. Trixie clearly thought she lived at the inn. As long as no one stole her and locked her up, she appeared to be inclined to come home. That took a heavy weight off of me. It didn’t erase the fact that someone had taken her the night before, but she knew we were a team.

  I decided I should be grateful for having an aunt who cared about me, even if she went about it all wrong.

  Philip might be a little too eager for my taste. Perhaps I’d been too quick to resent his jumping in to help, but wasn’t that actually a good trait in a person? It would have been far worse if he’d expected to be waited on hand and foot.

  I returned to the third floor briefly to check on the housekeeper. She insisted she was fine. It turned out that she hadn’t known Sven, since Oma had only hired her recently.

  Filled with my new feeling of generosity toward all, even Aunt Birdie, I returned to the dining area, where I poured myself a mug of hot cider, filled a plate with a cucumber sandwich, an egg-salad sandwich, a piece of cherry strudel, and a twice-baked crunchy dog cookie for Trixie, and joined Aunt Birdie and Philip for tea.

  Philip gushed about my beautiful suite until Aunt Birdie insisted they have a tour. I indulged them because it was gorgeous. Oma deserved enormous credit for it.

  When we came downstairs, it seemed like an opportune time to thank them for coming. Philip probably had entirely the wrong idea, but I would cure him of that as soon as I could out of Aunt Birdie’s range of hearing.

  Philip handed me another business card. “I jotted my new phone number on here.”

  Aunt Birdie raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t shared it with me, yet, Philip.”

  “Just got it, Aunt Birdie. I must have dropped my other phone somewhere. Maybe it was fate. They offered me this new easy-to-remember number for the bed-and-breakfasts—1864Bed. How cool is that?”

  He took Aunt Birdie’s arm and walked her down the stairs. She departed, pleased as punch with herself. I knew she’d complain nonstop once I made it clear that I had no interest in Philip.

  Oma and Rose returned soon thereafter. I listened politely to how guilty Oma felt about Sven’s death. I understood completely. It never should have happened.

  I confessed the story about the rat, telling it as humorously as I possibly could.

  Oma did not find it remotely funny. “We have no rats in the Sugar Maple Inn. We never have. Is impossible.”

  Okay. Maybe it would be a good time to buy a replacement collar for the one that mysteriously went missing the night before. I mentioned that I needed to do that.

  “Holly,” said Oma, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Do not run back here in a rush. I am fine. No one here will hurt me. Yes?” She chucked me under the chin and winked, like I was a two-year-old.

  I hooked the unfamiliar leash onto the strange brown collar and headed out. Trixie pranced along, stopping now and then to sniff some invisible scent on the ground. I didn’t mind. The afternoon sun shone on us with unusual warmth for the time of year. I window-shopped as we strolled, admiring fancy dog beds with canopies. A shop called For the Birds carried everything a bird lover could possibly want, from bird-themed jewelry for people to amazing cages. An African gray parrot climbed a ladder in the store window. She stopped to look at us and shrieked at Trixie, who nearly bolted. Thankfully, I had a good grip on the leash.

  For the first time this visit, I walked all the way to the other end of the shopping area. The old Wagtail Springs Hotel still stood, though clearly empty. Porches ran across the front of the two-story building on both floors. It had been creepy when I was a kid. We used to dare each other to run inside, and it was even more sinister now.

  “Have you ever seen a ghost in the window?”

  I looked around. Mr. Luciano studied the building. His hands rested on the handle of an odd stroller. But the child appeared to be encased behind mesh.

  I peered at it.

  Trixie sniffed and tentatively wagged her tail.

  “This is my Gina.” He walked to the front and opened the mesh so we could see her. A darling white bulldog with a brown spot over one eye looked back at us.

  “She can’t walk?” I asked, wondering where she’d come from.

  “Not yet. I brought her here for surgery. She had an elongated soft palate, which made it difficult for her to breathe. They let her come home to the inn today. She’s not supposed to run around yet, but it’s such a lovely day that I thought she would enjoy getting out a little.”

  “She’s a beautiful dog.”

  “Thank you. Gina is my joy. They say she will be fine.”

  “I’m sure she will. And she has that fabulous fur bed to lounge on in your room.”

  “A most thoughtful gift from your grandmother.” He gazed up at the empty, lifeless windows of the building again. “A lot of people in Wagtail think this place is haunted. No one wants to buy it and renovate it.”

  “That’s silly. Ghosts don’t exist. Besides, I heard Philip might be interested in acquiring it.”

  “How can you be so sure ghosts aren’t real?”

  I flipped it around on him. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “I know they make for good TV shows.”

  I laughed. “I’ll agree with that. I like a good scary show as much as the next person, even though I know it’s only fantasy.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough. I’m bringing a team of ghost hunters to town to check out this old place. They’re going to film a show here. Did you know that several murders took place in this building?”

  “Jerry was murdered in his house. Do you think he’s haunting it?” I asked.

  Mr. Luciano pulled a snazzy phone from his pocket and made a note. “That’s an excellent point. I have to see if I can get into Jerry’s house. Thanks for mentioning it.” He zipped Gina’s stroller shut. “I’d better get her back for some rest.”

  “See you later!” I hugged Trixie. “I have to get you over to the vet for a once-over. Have you had your shots?”

  She licked my chin.

  “Let’s go get that collar.”

  The woman who helped us the day before greeted us warmly. “Trixie! Your leash is ready . . .” She tucked her chin in, aghast. “What’s this? You went to Prissy’s store?”

  I explained about the strange middle-of-the-night dognapping and the new collar and leash.

  “Sweetie, are you okay?” She patted Trixie, making cooing sounds. “That’s terrifying! A dognapper in Wagtail? Maybe that’s what happened the night Sven died. Maybe someone was trying to steal Dolce! He has dog royalty in his genes.” One eye squinted a little as she looked Trixie over. “Honey bunch, you’re as cute as can be, but somehow you don’t strike me as a show dog.” Speaking to me, she said confidentially, “They’re always a little haughty. Like they know they’re stars.”

  She checked out the leash closely. “This is definitely Prissy’s cheap, excuse me, inexpensive line. No one else in town carries this brand.”

  Maybe Dave could find out to whom she sold it. I certainly wasn’t taking Trixie into her store again.

  “Shall I set you up with another collar?”

  “Yes, and I think I’ll take a little halter, too. Just to be on the s
afe side. That might take a dognapper longer to remove.”

  Half an hour later, Trixie pranced out in her new halter, collar, tags, and leash. I supposed I could have used the brown collar, but it seemed tainted to me. Oh no! I was beginning to be superstitious like Oma!

  “From now on,” I said to Trixie, “if someone tries to remove your collar, you have my permission to bite him. If I have to buy a new collar and leash every day, we’re going to go through my savings much faster than I expected.”

  She stood on her hind legs to smell the shopping bag, which contained some sample treats for her and Twinkletoes to try.

  I broke one in half and gave her a piece.

  In the grassy middle of the shopping area, I spotted Zelda with a Great Dane and a basset hound, undoubtedly Dolce and Chief. “Zelda!” I waved at her.

  She turned her back and released the dogs in a fenced play zone. There was no way she hadn’t heard me.

  Thirty-five

  I crossed over to Zelda. “Zelda, hi!”

  She turned her back to me again. A definite snub.

  I tried again. “Zelda, is something wrong?”

  She didn’t rotate away from me this time but kept her eyes on the dogs, who were racing in wild circles. “I thought we could be friends, but I clearly misjudged you. I work for your grandmother and that’s all, okay?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, as though pained, and pointedly averted her gaze when she said, “A friend doesn’t go stealing the guy her girlfriend has a crush on.”

  Duh. It finally dawned on me. “Philip!”

  “Philip!” she mimicked. “Yes, Philip.”

  “How could you possibly have heard about that already? You went to the memorial service over in Snowball, and you can’t have been back for more than an hour.”

  “Wagtail is a small place, Holly. Sneeze and half the town will catch your cold.”

  Trixie yelped at me. I opened the gate to the play area and released her. She took off running behind Dolce. Silly me. If Zelda had Dolce, she must have seen Ellie. “How did Ellie know?”

  She scowled. “Your Aunt Birdie stopped by Ellie’s place to crow about having made the perfect match. I hear you’re moving to Wagtail, and the wedding will be in the spring, if not in the snow over the holidays.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “I’m not seeing Philip. He’s nice enough, but I wouldn’t go behind your back like that. I was stuck at the inn when Aunt Birdie brought him over. What could I do? I tried to be polite, and the next time I see him when Aunt Birdie isn’t around, I’ll make it very clear to him that I’m not interested.”

  She cocked her head like a puppy. “Really?”

  At that exact moment, Dolce trotted over, joyfully lifted his paws, and whapped them on my shoulders. The two of us tumbled, my purse and the little shopping bag flew through the air, and I landed on my back.

  “I’m so sorry!” Zelda extended her hands to help me up. “Are you all right? Dolce knows he’s not supposed to do that, but he has the zoomies.”

  “I’m fine.” I stood and brushed myself off. I wasn’t sure whether the grass stains would come out of my dress, but otherwise I felt fine.

  Trixie already had her nose in the shopping bag, snarfing the free treats. “Trixie!” The paper bag clung to her head when she bolted. The sight of her running with a bag on her head excited the other dogs. Chief howled and tried to catch the inexpensive leash, which was falling out of the bag.

  I ran to rescue Trixie. She wriggled, trying to get away from me. When I removed the bag from her head, she shook as though she were wet.

  Zelda worked at gathering the contents of my handbag. “I hope you didn’t lose anything. I found lipstick, lip balm, a couple of pens, and your wallet. I don’t see your cell phone.”

  “I left it at the inn. Thanks for picking everything up for me.”

  She blinked hard. “I should apologize for ignoring you. I just thought . . .”

  “No worries about that. Besides, I’m not moving here, and there’s no wedding planned, with Philip or anyone else.”

  “Not even Ben?”

  I threw my hand up in mock surprise. “You knew about Philip, but you didn’t hear that Ben sent me a break up text?”

  “That’s horrible! A text? Who does that?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the red roses in my room. If she could snag Philip, she’d know soon enough that he was a romantic. I tucked the cheap leash into the crumpled and beat-up bag. Zelda chattered, but I didn’t hear what she was saying. Something nagged at me. A bag from Prissy’s shop. I’d seen one recently. Kim!

  Kim, who had no dog that I knew of, had purchased something there the day before and offered Trixie a treat. I called Trixie. “Excuse me, Zelda, I think I have to pay Kim and Ben a little visit.”

  I snapped the leash onto Trixie’s collar, and we hurried back to the inn. I found Oma in her office and asked for directions to Kim’s father’s cabin. She frowned at me but marked it on a map. Borrowing one of Oma’s golf carts, I loaded my purse in the compartment in front of the seats and hustled away from Wagtail on a country road, Trixie riding by my side like she’d done it all her life.

  Tall pines lined the road, with an occasional driveway or gravel drive leading away and disappearing into the trees. A few cabins had been built close to the road, inviting A-frames with large windows and wraparound balconies.

  Children played outside of a battered old farmhouse. Hazel Mae’s place, perhaps?

  Not much farther along the road, I found a paved driveway to Mortie’s cabin, marked by a post with a painted fish on it. I could just imagine what his wife had said about that!

  The one-story log cabin was small but adorable. A cute roughly hewn wood railing wrapped around it from the driveway to a porch overlooking the lake. A green golf cart sat in the driveway next to the house, along with a red Miata.

  Trixie and I hopped out of our golf cart and walked up to the door. I knocked on it and waited. And waited. I knocked again and could hear muffled voices. Ben opened the door, his shirt hanging outside of his pants. I’d never seen him that way before. “Holly! What are you doing here?”

  “Who’s that, honey?” Kim’s voice came from inside. She made a point of peering at me, even though she wore nothing but a sheet wrapped around her like a toga. Kim squealed, and her eyes opened wide at the sight of Trixie.

  “Kim, put on some clothes already.” Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not like it looks, Holly.”

  I didn’t really care. Well, maybe a little. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”

  “Just relaxing, that’s all.” He tucked his shirt in.

  I really hadn’t expected Ben to be seduced by Kim so fast. How stupid of me. After all, they had dated once. Being thrown together in a cozy little cabin in the woods had proven too tempting.

  I got to the point. “I’d like to know why Kim kidnapped Trixie last night.”

  She tucked the sheet around her legs. “I did no such thing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Give it up, Kim. I know it was you.” I didn’t know that, but I had a strong suspicion.

  “I was here with Ben all night. You can ask him.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Ben agreed. “I slept on the sofa. I would have noticed if Kim left the bedroom. What’s with you, Holly? I told you Kim must have sent the text rescinding all proposals.”

  “I did not!” Kim lied without flinching.

  He retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter and flicked it on. I looked over his arm and saw the offending text.

  The muscles in Ben’s jaw twitched. He marched over to Kim and held it in front of her. “I did not write this.”

  Kim focused on Trixie and ignored Ben.

  “Kim! I know it had to be you who sent the text. Will you please tell Holly?” Ben asked.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I was a
lready asleep when this was sent. I’m sorry, Holly.”

  Kim tossed back her hair, placed her free hand on her hip, and said, “I just seem to be a very convenient scapegoat for the two of you. Ben, I can’t help it if you changed your mind after you sent that text, and I swear I had nothing to do with your dog.”

  I swept Trixie into my arms. “Then stay away from her from now on.” Carrying Trixie, I marched past Ben. “She’s your problem, pal.”

  I admit that I quivered a little bit once we sat safely in our golf cart. Kim didn’t scare me, but something smelled wrong. Maybe she had hijacked Ben’s phone. But why had she come here anyway? If her father’s car was stolen, then why did she make an appearance? Couldn’t that be confirmed by phone? Why hadn’t Mortie come instead?

  I pulled my purse out and applied lip balm. Was it remotely possible that she was telling the truth and someone else had snatched Trixie?

  Leaving my purse on the seat, I walked over to her dad’s golf cart. There were precious few places to hide anything. I stuck my hand into the pocket in front of the seat and felt something crinkle. Aha. The bag from Prissy’s store. Although that might not be evidence of anything, it raised my suspicions even more.

  The basket in the back was empty. My gaze ran down to the black vinyl where golf bags were usually stashed. A bit of orange and yellow clung to it. The missing collar. Complete with tags that clearly identified them as Trixie’s. I could only imagine that she tossed the collars into the basket, they slipped through the gaps, the GPS one fell off, and the other went unnoticed.

  I returned to Oma’s golf cart, turned it around, and we chugged back the way we had come. Trixie raised her nose in the air, sniffing.

  Why would Kim want her? What could possibly prompt her to snatch Trixie? It wouldn’t win her points with Ben. She could probably talk her daddy into buying her just about any dog she wanted. Was it just to hurt me? She hadn’t struck me as being particularly vindictive.

  I knew one thing—tonight I would be waiting for her. If she made a little trip out after Ben had dozed off, I would be ready.