Paws For Death

by Susan Union

  At least she dropped the silly pretense of coming to see her daughter.

  Donna started to leave then stopped. “You heard about that woman who died, right? Can you believe it? She was my age. Dropped like a rock. They find out what happened yet?”

  Her mother looked the other way. Randi shook her head.

  “Scary stuff. If it happens to me, I pray I’m jogging on the beach in Maui. That’s how I want to go.” Donna nodded at the sandwiches. “Enjoy your lunch.”

  Her mother tucked her napkin in her lap. “I’m getting a headache. Got any Advil?”

  “In the truck. Will you grab my phone while you’re there please? In the center console.”

  The napkin went back on the table. “Don’t wait for me. Eat.”

  Obedient daughter she was, Randi dove in. The chill of the lettuce and tomato met the warmth of the grilled chicken and nutty flavor of the Swiss cheese. She only had half a bite left by the time her mother returned, and she let the remains of her crust fall into the basket. “What took so long? You couldn’t find the Advil?”

  “I found it.”

  Looked like she’d been crying. “Donna didn’t mean to be callous about Gina. She didn’t know.”

  Her mother shrugged it off. “It’s okay. That’s not what held me up.”

  “What did?”

  “Don’t be mad at me.”

  Randi steepled her fingers beneath her chin and waited.

  Her mother put the phone on the table next to her lemonade. “It was ringing when I opened the door, so I answered it.”

  Randi snatched it up. “Please don’t tell me it was Luke.”

  “Not Luke. A cop.”

  “Joe? That was fast. I’d better call him back.”

  Lee Ann shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

  “Why not?”

  “He said, ‘Ms. Sterling?’ and I said, yes?”

  “Joe thought you were me?”

  She nodded.

  “And you didn’t tell him otherwise?”

  “I did not.”

  “How come?”

  “He said he was the police. I assumed it was about Gina.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to impersonate me. What if I did that to you?”

  Lee Ann waved a plastic fork. “It’s not the end of the world. We have bigger problems right now.”

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms. “What did Joe tell me?”

  “Toxicology came back.”

  “And?”

  “It showed poison in Gina’s system.”

  Randi leaned forward. “What kind?”

  “Not sure. Said he was busy. Hung up real quick. Good thing because I think he might have caught on I wasn’t you.”

  “Imagine that.”

  Her mother paused, pinched a tiny corner off the sandwich roll and tucked it inside her cheek. “Don’t sass me, young lady.”

  Randi breathed in deep. As silly as it seemed, it helped.

  “I don’t understand. Why would anyone want to kill Gina? She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

  “Well,” Randi took a sip of Dr. Pepper, “the garden variety reasons are anger, envy, monetary gain, and fear.”

  “Fear?”

  “Yeah, of losing something—money, love, power, a home, a way of life.”

  Her mother shrugged. “I guess everyone is afraid of something.”

  Randi picked up her remaining crust and twirled it between her fingers. “I think whoever killed Gina wanted to make a public spectacle of her death. Otherwise, why not poison her at night and let her die in her sleep? Was it timed on purpose so she’d collapse right after her winning run with Zoom? Or did the killer just get lucky?”

  Her mother twirled the straw in her drink. “It’s possible we just watched Gina’s killer down half a box of wine before noon.”

  Randi scrolled to Joe’s number and hit redial. It rang three times then went to voicemail. “Hi there, Joe, it’s Randi. Just wanted to clarify what you just told me. I think we had a bad connection a minute ago. Please call me back.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve changed my mind about not getting involved and leaving everything to the police. If Mel killed Gina, I’ll personally see to it she’s locked away for good.”

  “Given this new information, I’m on the fence. Murderers aren’t people you want to mess with, Mom. Trust me.”

  “This is my closest friend we’re talking about. I’m not going home until I find out who killed Gina.” Lee Ann blinked, eyes watering as her gaze meandered the Sub King. Seconds later, her face brightened. “Hey, look, it’s Dylan Dainsworth.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My dog psychic.”

  “Your dog psychic?” In designer jeans, a black polo-style shirt and shiny Italian-looking shoes? “Seriously?”

  “Dylan!” her mother called. “Over here!”

  Dainsworth spotted her and broke from his place in line to hurry to the table. He snatched up her mother’s hand and brought it to his lips. Despite his cool-guy exterior, he appeared slightly frantic. “Lee Ann, I’m glad I ran into you. I need to see Zoom. He’s suffering something fierce, and that beastly Steve Copeland refuses to let me near him. Can you talk some sense into that dreadlocked diva?”

  “I tried.”

  Randi nodded. “We failed.”

  “Try again, I’m begging you. I have the feeling something awful is going to happen if we don’t get a hold of that dog.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Randi shortened Shane’s leash. “I should have my head examined.” She looked over her shoulder at her mother hurrying to catch up across the fairground parking lot. They’d dropped Jojo at home, and not having the little dog to fuss over seemed to have thrown her mother for a loop. She appeared lost without her.

  Randi waited until her mother caught up. “You sure you want to go see this Dainsworth guy? We haven’t had a chance to bring Zoom to him like he asked, assuming Copeland would give him to us in the first place.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Dylan Dainsworth? Is that his real name? It sounds too perfect.”

  “It’s his professional name. His real one is Dwight, or something like that.”

  “How much does he charge? I think I have a twenty in my purse.”

  “A hundred an hour.”

  Randi stopped in her tracks. “Are you kidding? Guess that’s how he affords those fancy Italian shoes. Sorry, Mom, way out of my budget.”

  “We’re only doing half an hour and he gives me a discount. My treat.” She waved her arm. “Come on. We’ll drop Shane off then go look for Gina’s truck.”

  She picked up a walk again, shifting her mental focus. “Good idea. The inside of a person’s vehicle can tell you a lot about their life. Mine’s kinda like a traveling desk. Notes everywhere.”

  Lee Ann fluffed her hair. “Agreed. That’s why I want to find it. She used to keep one of those magnetic hide-a-key things in the wheel well. Now, be nice to Dylan. He’s very good. He told me a lot about Jojo and helped me to understand her needs.”

  “You feed her, water her, give her exercise and give her lots of love. What more could she want?”

  “Jojo doesn’t like too much kibble in her bowl and she likes to cuddle at night, but not so much in the daytime.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dylan told me she wants to keep her girlish figure and she’s working on being more independent, but she’s afraid of the dark.”

  “Jojo cares about her waistline? Does she read a doggy version of Cosmopolitan too?”

  “Go ahead and laugh, Miranda. Wait until he’s finished with Shane, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

  When they reached Dylan Dainsworth’s motorhome, her mother marched up the metal steps first. Randi followed, addressing the back of her head. “My point is, building a bond with an animal takes time. You can’t spend half an hour with Shane and know what makes him tick.”

  Lee Ann peered through
Dainsworth’s screen and flapped her hand. “Shh! He’s coming.”

  The door opened and Dainsworth invited them in. His dark hair was pulled back into a miniature ponytail about two inches long, cologne permeating him like an invisible cloak as he wrapped her mother in a hug. Randi offered her hand. If she hugged him, his overpowering scent would cling to her skin and she’d have to go home and shower or face getting a migraine. She didn’t care if he thought her standoffish but, to appease her mother, she put on a smile. “Nice place.”

  Hands clasped behind his back, Dainsworth rolled forward onto his toes. Above his loafers his ankles were bare. “Thank you.”

  His long-sleeved silk shirt draped his body with a casual elegance. Why all the finery? Perhaps he felt he had to dress to impress to lend credibility to his sketchy profession.

  Randi’s eyes wandered. The kitchen was tidy; as was the room they stood in. Tasteful in muted browns with jewel tone throw pillows placed strategically for colorful accents, but the door to the bedroom was shut. Closed doors always piqued Randi’s curiosity. What is he hiding back there? Could be nothing more than an unmade bed—on the other hand…

  “My mother tells me you book up months in advance. I hope you didn’t have to shuffle too many appointments to squeeze us in.”

  “I made it work. Lee Ann is one of my favorite clients. She understands my gift with the canine species.”

  He hadn’t even noticed Shane. How gifted could he be?

  “Some people don’t?”

  Her mother bumped her shoulder, hard.

  Dylan put on a used-car salesman smile. “There are a few skeptics out there. Difficult to believe, isn’t it?” He clapped his hands and pointed them at the kitchen. “Would you all like some coffee? Water?” He shot Randi a glance. “Dr. Pepper?”

  She had a weakness for Dr. Pepper. Coincidence. He had it in his fridge. Lots of people did. “No thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Dr. Pepper sounds great.” Her mother settled herself on the love seat and narrowed her eyes in a mother-like warning.

  Dainsworth retrieved a soda then sat in a recliner by the door. “Okay, let’s meet that handsome boy of yours.”

  With some misgiving, Randi unclipped Shane’s leash. He made a beeline to Dainsworth and dropped to his belly, tail swishing the floor. Dainsworth cradled Shane’s chin and gazed into his eyes. The seconds ticked. Nobody moved. Randi shifted on her tailbone. This was weird. Shane wasn’t a sit-still-for-no-reason kind of dog.

  At last Dainsworth released Shane’s head. Dainsworth closed his eyes and breathed deep. “I love it when that happens.” From the look on his face, he’d just experienced a Vulcan mind meld with her dog.

  Randi’s spine went rigid. “When what happens?”

  “I feel an intense connection with Shane. Usually when it hits me that strong and fast, it means we have a history.”

  For crying in a bucket, as her grandpa used to say. “You mean, like reincarnation?”

  “In a way. Our beings may have taken different forms. For instance, I could have been a dog and Shane could have been my owner. Or we might have been members of the same wolf pack.” No smirk. No twinkle in his eyes. He wasn’t pulling her leg. He really believes this crap.

  Other smart-ass retorts ricocheted through her brain, but before she could choose the snarkiest one, her mother got to her feet. “Come on, hon. Dylan likes to work alone, in case the client wants to communicate something less than complimentary.”

  Shane didn’t even turn to look at her as she went out the door. Randi wasn’t sure what Dainsworth’s voodoo magic was all about, but she planned on finding out. She banged the door shut. Outside, a generator hummed from the rear of the camper.

  “Seriously, Mom? Less than complimentary? Shane’s my dog. What could he possibly have to say about me?”

  “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I bet Dainsworth comes up with something like, ‘Shane doesn’t like riding around in a black truck. He prefers red.’ How can you prove or disprove such a claim?”

  “Try not to be so irritable, Miranda. Dylan’s doing us a favor.”

  “Yeah, and charging for it.” She looked up and down the rows of cars. “What does Gina’s truck look like?”

  “Forest green Chevy Silverado with a camper shell, but it’ll be parked on the other side of the grounds, not by the camper hook-ups.”

  They crossed the lot in silence, then down the single-track path and through the ice plant leading to long-term parking until footsteps coming from behind broke the quiet.

  Sheila, the woman who’d been next to them when Gina collapsed, along with her Aussie, Bess, trotted up. “Hey, wait up! You two ever hear what happened what happened to Gina?”

  “Poison,” her mother blurted before Randi could stop her.

  A man walking a French bulldog took notice and changed his course to join them. The bulldog, coincidently the color of French toast, and Sheila’s Bess barked a greeting, tails wagging.

  Sheila introduced the man as Earl.

  “This is Pierre, but when I run him on course it comes out as Pear.” Earl’s belly jiggled when he laughed, but as he looked around at the group’s somber mood, the smile fell from his face. “I take it you’ve been talking about Gina. Terrible thing. Nice gal. Good competitor. Anyone know what happened yet?”

  “Poison,” Sheila said.

  Randi flapped her arms at her mother. Look what she’d gone and started. Joe was her friend, but he was still a cop, and if he heard about this he would not be pleased.

  Earl’s face formed a question mark. “No kidding?”

  Randi crossed her arms. “Any idea who might have done it?”

  “Uhh…how would I know?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you saw or heard something out of the ordinary?”

  Earl puffed his chest out. “Well, now that you mention it, Gina and Steve Copeland had something weird going on, but I’d hesitate to incriminate the man on those merits alone.”

  Randi tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “Something weird?”

  “I guess it won’t matter if I bring this up at this point. Pierre and I caught Gina and Steve…well, you know…”

  “No,” her mother said, “we don’t know.”

  Earl’s cheeks grew rosy. “They were going at it in the massage tent at the last agility trial. Where was that?” He looked to the sky then snapped his fingers. “Phoenix. Yep, it was definitely Phoenix.”

  “Going at it?” Randi asked. She was pretty sure she knew what he meant, but this definitely needed clarification. Why would Gina be hooking up with a guy that was supposed to be her rival?

  “Yes. Going at it.” Earl appeared perturbed at having to spell it out for them. “Having sex.”

  Her mother paled. “Are you sure it was them?”

  “Of course I’m sure. They made quite a striking pair. It’s a mental snapshot I’ll never forget.”

  ****

  When Dainsworth’s half hour with Shane was up, Randi and her mother made their way back to Dainsworth’s motorhome. Randi didn’t want to upset her mother, but there was really no way around it. “So…we discovered your dog trainer was sleeping with your best friend, and we can’t find Gina’s truck anywhere. What do you make of it?”

  “Let’s just get Shane and go home. Got any tequila?”

  “Of course, but it’s a little early, don’t you think?”

  Dainsworth waited at the door, scowling like a school principal. Randi half expected him to whip out a ruler from his back pocket and slap it against his palm.

  She stopped on the steps. “I’m sorry if you didn’t learn anything about Shane, but he’s kinda private that way.”

  “Your dog is conflicted.”

  “What are you talking about? Where is he?”

  “Come inside. I’ll explain.”

  Shane lay curled in a compact circle at the base of the recliner, nose tucked under his bushy tail. Sound asleep and snoring lightly.
>
  Dainsworth must have brainwashed him. Or drugged him. For her dog to be so relaxed in a stranger’s home was unheard of. Randi collapsed Indian-style on the floor opposite the recliner and pulled Shane’s head onto her lap. He flopped his tail twice.

  Dainsworth fussed around in the kitchen. “You adopted Shane from an animal shelter, right?”

  She nodded. No big deal. My mother could have told him.

  “You knew right away he was meant for you. You didn’t keep searching, though there were more dogs on your list. You were specifically looking for a Labrador, right?”

  “Did you call the shelter?” She struggled to act calm and collected. Even if her mother had leaked the name of the Larimer County Animal Shelter, she wasn’t sure they’d give out information, and she was almost certain her mother, absent from her life at that point, didn’t know when, or where, she’d found Shane.

  Dainsworth leveled his gaze at her. “Shane loved his former guardian, you know.”

  Randi’s legs burned like they were covered in fire ants. This is ridiculous. A total stranger was making her feel insecure about her relationship with her beloved Shane. “I don’t think you should charge my mother for this session when all you did was make a phone call.”

  “Shane didn’t want to be surrendered to the shelter. He had no idea he was being given up.” Dainsworth’s voice was low and gentle, like he was delivering bad news.

  She checked the area. What did Dainsworth do with his leash?

  “He always knew what his previous guardian’s plans were. He liked that. Made him feel comfortable and secure. Nothing was ever left to chance.”

  “The guy was military. Discipline comes with the territory.” Randi fought to keep the tremor from her voice. “That’s why it was easy for him to give Shane up when he shipped out overseas. I would never desert my dog. No matter what. I would change my circumstances if I had to. That’s how important he is to me.”

  Dainsworth came up behind her and placed his hand on her head, like they were playing duck, duck, goose. “Like any good dog, Shane wants to serve and obey.” Sympathy oozed through his fingertips. “And the other half…well, he questions your ability to run your life, much less be in charge of his.”

  Randi jerked her head out from underneath Dainsworth’s palm. “He’s well fed and exercised.” Same thing she’d said to her mother about Jojo. “I take excellent care of my dog.”