Puppy Mills, Puppy Kills (Animal Instincts Book 3)

by Chloe Kendrick

  Sheila waved an arm at someone and made a motion for the bill. She looked back at me. “I have no idea what it means; however, I can guarantee that it means something. That’s all I can say right now.”

  “Why didn’t Seiver say something about this? Why didn’t my parents say something about this?” I felt like my oxygen had been cut off. I suspected I was getting ready to have a panic attack right in the middle of the restaurant. My vision narrowed, so that I could only see as if looking through a periscope.

  One thing about being out to dinner with a police officer, she knows how to react in an emergency situation. Sheila grabbed her purse, threw some bills down on the table, and marched me out of the restaurant by the elbow. Part of my panic was the thought of everyone looking at me. Not only did it play into my fears about the disappearance, I’d hated being stared at ever since I was known as the missing girl’s brother.

  Sheila got me to her car, unlocked the door and sat me down. She pulled a bottle of water from the backseat and ordered me to drink it. My mind wasn’t up to asking questions, so I did as I was told.

  While I was very unfamiliar with how first dates were supposed to go, Sheila did the weirdest thing. She began singing “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” to me. At first, I just stared at her, but then I began to sing along with her urging. By the time we hit the chorus for the second time, I felt more like myself and less like I was going to explode.

  “What was that about?” I said when I could finally talk in a normal tone.

  She shrugged. “When I was little, my aunt was getting a divorce. She got terrible panic attacks, and every time she did, we had to sing Dionne Warwick to her. I always saw it as a personal affront to my musical tastes, but it worked. Apparently, it still does.”

  I nodded. “So that’s what you wanted me to see? Susan’s keys and phone were in her room. That meant that either she left without them or someone returned them to the room. Either explanation requires a person who knew Susan well enough to drive her or go into her room. It wasn’t a case of random kidnapping. It couldn’t have been.”

  Sheila took a deep breath and walked around the car once. I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but when she came back, she had tears in her eyes. “I really should have planned this better. I just thought that you would read the file immediately – like a normal person and then we could talk. Instead you wait nine months, read it without telling me, and have a panic attack when you realize the implications. Shit, I am sorry. That’s not what I intended at all. You’ve got to believe that.”

  I smiled or tried to. “I do. It should have hit me sooner, but with everything going on in this case, I hadn’t had the time to sit down and think about what it meant. Then I came up with that idea about the missing woman. So I’ve been wound up lately.”

  Sheila looked down at her phone. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about the missing girl. She hasn’t used her phone in five months, and her apartment was cleaned out and re-rented after two months. Those are not good signs.”

  “So what next?” I asked, doing everything to keep from thinking about what my discovery about Susan meant.

  “The police will get a bit more thorough at this point. We’ll ask for a warrant to look at her phone bill, bank account and such. We’ll see if there’s been any activity anywhere since May. If there has, we may be able to track her down. If not, then likely she’s the girl in the sludge. Finding out who she is and what she is goes a long way towards finding out why she died.”

  I nodded. I knew that I was right. The solution made sense, and she was the only missing person we’d run across so far. Our society has made it nearly impossible to escape anymore. Even the lowest paying job requires a Social Security number and other ID these days.

  Sheila drove me home. She let me off at the door. I wasn’t sure what to do, and apparently none of her dates had ended in panic attacks before, because she gave me a peck on the cheek and walked down the sidewalk. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go get your car. You’re not in any shape to drive tonight.”

  I gave her a smile and went inside. While getting some rest seemed like a good idea, practically speaking, it was impossible. The thoughts of the evening kept coming back to me again and again.

  The first clear cut conclusion was that I’d been afraid of an outside danger for years when the danger was much closer to home. The thought chilled me. I could have known the person who did this. I could have been friends with or been related to the person who abducted her.

  When asked, I’ll always readily admit that I’m sure Susan was murdered, but now I was more certain than ever. If she had known the person who took her, they would never have let her go. She could have identified the person by name.

  To ease my mind and try to get some sleep, I thought about Fred Zook and his death. He too had to know his killer. The person who murdered him had to know that he had the money and had to know how to quickly remove the cash from the car. The killer had only had a half hour at most to subdue the car, kill Fred and take away the money. The killer had to be someone known to him, just like Susan’s killer was known to her.

  Chapter 9

  By morning, I’d slept for about 30 minutes. The same thoughts kept running through my head all night. True to her word, Sheila came to pick me up. We drove back to the restaurant in silence. I’d made us two thermoses of coffee and we drank quietly as she drove.

  When we got to the restaurant, I said, “Want to bring in a killer?”

  She eyed me. “What case are we talking about here?”

  “Fred Zook’s killer. I know who did it.”

  She paused a second. “There are all sorts of restrictions on going to another jurisdiction to apprehend a killer, and technically it’s not our case.”

  “But –”

  She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do with the sheriff there. Care to tell me what you’ve got in mind?”

  “Not yet. I’m tired, so I thought I’d sleep on the way to Green Springs. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue with me. I didn’t know if she was still feeling bad about how things had gone down or if she was more excited about the prospect of getting some kudos for solving a case that wasn’t even hers. In either case, she put on some soft classical music and I slept the entire way to Green Springs.

  When I awoke, we were driving through the town. The police department was on the left, and she made a big turn to park in front of the building. We walked into the building, and the sheriff was sitting behind a desk in view of the door.

  Sheila waved a hand and he approached us. “What can I do for you two? I don’t have any more animals for you to talk to today. Sorry.”

  Sheila suppressed a smile or at least tried to. “Sheriff, I’m Detective Sheila Green of the Toledo PD. I have a lead that I think you might want to hear about the Zook case.”

  The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “More than the lead about a million dollars floating around my town?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Fitzpatrick has an idea about who might have killed Mr. Zook and that woman from his barn.” I noticed that she hadn’t shared the information I’d given her last night about Marianne Martin. I wasn’t sure why, but I played along. Perhaps she wanted to take the credit or maybe she just didn’t want to look bad if things didn’t pan out with the information.

  “And who might that be?” he asked, looking at me with clear disdain. For a moment I was reminded of Anthony Wayne’s look and how it had sparked a change that had sparked a panic attack, but I felt on firmer ground here. I wasn’t dealing with an assessment of my personality or character – just the facts that pertained to the case.

  “Jill Andriot,” I said without explanation.

  Both of them just looked at me. “Care to offer a little bit of explanation there before I just go pick her up on your say-so?”

  I took a gulp and started. “Last night, I was thinking about who could have killed Fred Zo
ok. It had to be someone local to you, who knew about the business and knew that he kept large sums of money around. Of the two people who had purchased the largest number of dogs, Jill Andriot was the only local one. She’d bought three Afghan Hounds and two Chihuahuas. So she knew what Zook did and she knew that he ran a cash-only business.”

  “I could find five other people who could say the same thing,” the sheriff replied in a monotone voice.

  “How many of them were at the scene of the crime around the time of the girl’s disappearance?” I asked. The word “disappearance” jarred me, but I continued.

  “How can you show that she was?”

  “Her dogs. The two Chihuahuas are about six months old. She would have picked them up from the farm around the time of the disappearance. She might have even gone to visit them around that time too. That would put her in the barn in the right month.”

  The sheriff snorted. “That’s police work. In the barn in the same month.”

  “I also know that she wasn’t at home the day that Zook was killed. So she’s got opportunity for that crime as well.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I stopped by before going to Zook’s that day. No one was home.”

  “By that logic, you had the opportunity to kill Zook too.”

  Sheila smiled, but I kept on. “And I walked back to the house and hit myself on the head? I think not. The main clue is the money. I’d recognize that luggage anywhere, and I doubt that she’s put it in the bank. So it would have to be somewhere where she could get at it.”

  The sheriff nodded. “We could do that. Let’s go out there and take a look around. See if Jill’s there. Detective, do you have a weapon with you?”

  Sheila nodded. I waited for someone to ask me, but no question was forthcoming. I guess they figured that I’d survive by my wits.

  We drove out to the Andriot place. Unlike the other day, there were cars in driveway. We pulled up behind the cars, so that Jill couldn’t leave without moving our cars. I could hear the thunderous barks from the Afghan Hounds alongside the yips of the Chihuahuas. The garage door was open as we walked past it.

  There as plain as day, sitting on the floor, was the piece of luggage. The cover had been unzipped and thrown back. It was empty, but I knew that the money would be hidden elsewhere. I doubt that she could have explained that much money sitting in her garage.

  “That’s the bag,” I said. I pointed to the open piece of luggage.

  The sheriff walked up to the luggage and flipped the lid over. A piece of plastic hung from the handle. He picked it up and looked at it. He gave a heavy sigh and stood up again. “Damned if you’re not right. That’s Zook’s suitcase alright. Sitting right there in the garage for anyone to see.”

  At that moment, Jill Andriot came to the door. Given that both Sheila and the sheriff were armed and drawing their service revolvers, she didn’t put up a fight. She just dropped her dishtowel and held up her hands. It seemed so domestic and so cold-hearted at the same time.

  The Green Springs police collected enough evidence to try Jill for the murder of Fred Zook. The police had carried on a long discussion about whether Fred or Jill had committed the murder of Marianne Martin. In the end, the police closed the case by saying that Jill had killed her, even though she denied it vigorously. She said that Fred had killed her when Marianne had gotten too nosy about what was going on at the farm.

  Sheila and I are continuing to see each other. She occasionally brings up the question of what to do about what we learned about Susan’s disappearance, but on that count, I too am not sure. Time will tell.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9