by V. M. Burns
He laughed. “Great.”
He drove to the restaurant, which was at a mall on the north side of the city. It was still a bit early for the dinner crowd, so we found a great parking space near the door.
Our luck continued inside, and the hostess seated us immediately. I loved the Cheesecake Factory, but I was well aware their portion sizes were huge and probably wouldn’t leave much room for dessert. So, I ordered soup and cheesecake.
Orders placed, we sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. “Are we going to address the elephant in the room?”
I raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Which one?”
“There’s more than one?” He chuckled. “I’m talking about the murder.”
I shrugged. “What’s to talk about?”
“It’s pretty clear you believe Dallas Simpson killed his wife.” He looked at me. “Why?”
I took a few minutes to gather my thoughts. “I don’t know. I guess because my first instinct when I saw the woman in the kennel area was that it was Keri Lynn. So, who else would want to murder her?”
“There’s no other reason you can think of for why her husband might want her dead?”
“Honestly, I don’t know either one of them. I only met them for the first time a few days ago.”
“Tell me about it.”
I told Red about the dog show and my meeting with Keri Lynn and later with Dallas. He asked a few questions but mostly let me talk.
The waiter brought our food, and we continued to talk while I ate my soup, which was more than enough and left room for my cheesecake. Red didn’t fare as well. His meal was huge, and he only had room for a couple of bites of my cheesecake.
“So, you didn’t like Dallas Simpson because he was tanned?” he asked.
I thought back and tried to remember my impressions from Saturday. “It wasn’t just because he was overly tanned. It’s because of his air of superiority. Plus, he seemed like one of those men who think they’re God’s gift to women and flirt with everyone in a skirt, regardless of age.”
“You got all this based on a few minutes of talking to him about boarding your dog?”
“Pretty much.” I scowled. “Well, for some reason, I got the impression maybe there was something going on between him and the girl who checked Aggie in at the resort, Heather.”
He looked up. “You know her last name?”
I shook my head. “No, she just said Heather.”
“What made you think there was something going on? Was he there?”
“Noooo.” I shook my head and thought back. “I think it was because she kept slipping and calling him by his first name and then correcting herself. So she would say, Dallas…ah, I mean Mr. Simpson. If she had just called him Dallas, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I didn’t know him. I would have just thought that’s how things were. Maybe everyone called him by his first name.”
He nodded. “So, the fact she kept stopping herself and correcting it drew attention to the fact she shouldn’t be using his first name.” He smiled. “Very perceptive of you.”
For some reason, receiving praise from him made me self-conscious and heat rose up my neck.
I paused for a moment. “When I first saw Keri Lynn at the dog show, there was a man in the tent with her.”
“Her husband?”
I shook my head. “No, but I got the impression he and Keri Lynn were…close.” I stared across the table. “If you get my drift.”
He nodded. “Was it anything in particular you noticed?”
I thought back but shook my head. “Not really. It was more of a feeling than anything else.” I shook my head. “I guess that wasn’t very helpful.”
He reached across and squeezed my hand. “It might be very helpful. At this stage, we need anything we can get. Maybe he and Keri Lynn were involved in an affair and she broke it off.”
“And so he killed her?”
“Maybe.” He squeezed my hand again. “Anything else?”
I thought for a minute and then shook my head. “Not really.” I looked at him. “Now it’s my turn.”
He opened his hands and sat back. “Fire away.”
“What happens now?”
“Tomorrow I’ll see where we stand with the forensics team. I’ll also check to see if Mrs. Simpson has returned from her dog show. I asked Officer Lewis to get all of the details and if necessary, we’ll have the local police make a trip to the show and get a visual confirmation.”
“How will they do that?”
“We have her driver’s license picture. They’ll confirm and take a picture of her and send it to me.”
“You really did believe me,” I said quietly. “I feel so ashamed for behaving like some lovesick teenager.”
He reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. “Hey, we’ve moved on.”
I nodded.
The waiter brought our bill and Red paid. As we were leaving, I noticed he had a smile on his face. “What?”
“Lovesick?”
I gave him a playful punch, and he laughed.
For the remainder of the car ride, we talked about possible reasons for the murder, and I went over what I’d seen on the pet cam for what felt like the millionth time.
I’d told him I’d left my car at the museum, so I was surprised when we got to Chattanooga that instead of taking Interstate 24, which would take him downtown to my car, he continued north on Interstate 75. “Where are you going?”
“Pet Haven. I’m not letting you go back to that place by yourself.”
I was grateful it was now dark and he couldn’t see my smile. Taking me to pick up Aggie meant going out of his way, but I was extremely grateful. I was struggling to forgive myself for doubting him previously. I’d have to think of a way to make it up to him.
When we arrived at Pet Haven, he pressed the button for the security gate and gave my name to the security guard, who opened the gate so we could enter. Inside, he drove to the main building. We got out of the car and walked to the door, where we waited for the security guard to unlock it for us. While we waited, I noticed Red looking at the security cameras. “This place has better security than some banks I’ve been to.”
I followed his gaze and noticed the discreetly placed cameras affixed around the building for the first time.
Inside, I gave the security guard the papers proving Aggie was my dog. He asked for my driver’s license, which he said was required to prove I was who I claimed to be and had the right to take her. Finally, convinced that I was indeed Aggie’s owner and had the right to pay the astronomical fee, he processed my credit card and then went back to get her.
“Are you kidding? It cost more to board your dog than it cost to stay at the Ritz-Carlton hotel?”
I sighed. “I should have tucked her in my purse and taken her with me.”
After a few minutes, the guard came back. He had Aggie on a leash, and she walked with her huge bone treat in her mouth and he carried a bag.
The guard handed me the leash and Red the bag, which I saw contained some of the stuffed toys I’d seen on her bed when I watched her on the pet cam. “Sorry, but she wouldn’t let go of the bone. She growled whenever I tried to take it.”
The bone was still large, but she’d managed to remove most of one end. I bent down to greet her. She growled when I tried to remove the bone too, but I wasn’t giving in to a six-pound dog. With one snatch, I took it away and shoved it in the bag. She spun around for a bit but eventually gave in and leapt into my arms.
We hugged and cuddled, and she covered my face with kisses.
“Ahem.” Red coughed.
“Oh, sorry.” I turned and carried her out of the building.
I went to put her in the back of the car, but she had her paws in my sweater and refused to let go.
I made a few attempts to extract my swea
ter from her claws but realized there was no way I was going to be able to get her off without damaging my sweater. I thought for a second and realized I liked this sweater too much to ruin it to prove she wasn’t the boss of me. It just wasn’t worth the effort. So I gave up and got in the front seat. Aggie was stuck to my sweater like a large brooch. When I fastened my seat belt, she climbed onto my shoulder like a parrot.
Red started the car, and I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching. “How do you plan to get her off?”
“When I get home, I’ll take the sweater off.”
He chuckled. “Round one goes to Aggie.”
“Shut up!”
Chapter 6
Red drove me back to the museum to get my car. By the time I got in my own car, Aggie must have felt she’d proved her point. She retracted her nails and voluntarily moved to the back seat. Red and I said our good-byes, and he promised to call the next day.
The drive back to the hotel was uneventful. Although, after two days at the Ritz-Carlton, I had to admit, my room felt shabby and outdated. I noticed the matted, threadbare spots on the carpet, the scuff marks and scratches on the furniture, and the faded curtains more than I had before.
I made myself a cup of tea and sat in bed. Aggie curled up next to me and rested her head on my leg. Her chest rose and fell, her eyelids drooped, and I felt at peace. I had been a wife and was the mother of two wonderful children whom I would sacrifice my life for. I had good friends, like Dixie, whom I’d known for years. I also had new friends like Red. I smiled at the thought of where that friendship could go. However, there was nothing that quite compared to the love of this little six-pound dog. She loved me with her whole heart and had risked her life to protect me. When I unwittingly moved my leg, her eyes popped open, and she looked at me with love and adoration.
I picked her up and hugged her close. “I love you, Aggie.”
Aggie gave my ear a lick and released a sigh that made me laugh.
“Okay, I’ll let you sleep.” I put her back down. She climbed on my lap and curled into a ball and then lay down.
I picked up my notepad from my nightstand and grabbed a pen. Using Aggie as a lap desk, I gently rested my notepad on her back.
She didn’t seem to mind.
I was eager to get everything Red told me written down before I forgot something. So I jotted down everything I could remember from our conversation and made notes of questions as they popped into my head.
Why would Dallas Simpson want to kill his wife? Was Dallas having an affair with Heather? Even if he was having an affair with Heather, why would he need to kill his wife? Divorce wasn’t taboo, as in previous centuries. If Dallas wanted a divorce, he could get one pretty easy. I knew, from personal experience, there were forms online, and for about fifty dollars, he could be divorced without much fuss, as long as there weren’t young children included. “I wonder if they have children?” I made a note to find out. I continued to mutter to myself, “Owning a building would make splitting assets harder.” I made another note to ask my daughter, Stephanie. One partner would most likely need to buy out the other person’s equity in the business, which could be really messy. My experience from my days as a CPA had proven that rarely were two people equal when it came to a business. One person usually invested more money or time and felt they were entitled to more when it came time to split. I seriously doubted a married couple would think to draw up a partnership agreement. I made another note to find out if Pet Haven was a sole proprietorship, a limited liability partnership, or an S-corp.
I tapped my pen on the notepad. Aggie opened her eyes, but she was used to me talking to myself. She sighed, closed her eyes, and went back to sleep.
“There was no need to kill Keri Lynn. Unless…maybe he had a hefty life insurance policy on her.” I scribbled down a note to try to find out. I had no idea how you found out things like that, but I was sure Red would know.
Both Dallas and Keri Lynn had an air of wealth about them. From Keri Lynn’s manicured nails, perfectly colored hair, and designer clothes to Dallas’s tan, which must have taken many hours in a tanning bed to achieve, his highlights, and expensive watch, there was an…aura of wealth and privilege. I could easily imagine them golfing in Scotland, sailing around the south of France, or going to the casinos of Monte Carlo. I knew without ever seeing it that Dallas would drive a luxury German car. I’d stake money he drove a BMW. He would live in a big fancy house. “There’s one way to find out.” I picked up my cell phone from the nightstand and did a quick search. A street name in a nearby Georgia town right across the border from Tennessee popped up for Keri Lynn and Dallas Simpson. The listing gave the street name but not the address, but from my house hunting excursions with Monica Jill, I recognized the street. It was in an exclusive gated golf course community with luxury homes that straddled the Tennessee and Georgia state lines. Houses in that subdivision were massive and came with massive price tags.
Money seemed to be the most logical reason to me. I couldn’t imagine Dallas was jealous, although I supposed it was possible. I remembered seeing Keri Lynn with the man in the tent. Could they have been having an affair? What if he was a jilted lover? Could the man in the tent have killed her? I made a few notes to check if Red was able to find out who he was. Maybe jealousy was the motive. I mulled both ideas around for a moment and then moved back to Dallas. He seemed like the type of person who would need a lot of money. Pet Haven seemed to be very successful. The facility was vast. They had certainly invested a great deal of money into the gated entry, intercom system, marble-floored lobby, pet cams, televisions, masseuse, chefs, and everything else. Maybe Pet Haven was in trouble financially. I made a note to check into their finances. As a CPA, I knew looks could be deceptive. Just because Pet Haven seemed to be successful, it was possible the business could be in debt up to its eyeballs. Pet Haven charged exorbitant fees for their services, but in all honesty, I couldn’t fault them for that. I moved my notepad and watched Aggie sleep. As a relatively new pet owner, I loved my dog and treated her like a member of my family. I wanted the best for her, and Pet Haven certainly seemed to offer the best. Dallas and Keri Lynn had identified a gap and were filling a need. Nevertheless, I spent a few minutes thinking of ways to find out about their financial situation. They were a private company, so their records wouldn’t be easily accessible, like a publicly traded company. However, there were ways. In fact, a crazy idea crossed my mind. I tapped my pen on my notepad. It was a very crazy idea, and Red would absolutely hate it, but there wasn’t really anything he could do to stop me. I rolled the idea around in my brain.
“Maybe I should marinate on this a bit longer.” I turned out the lamp and slid down under the covers. However, in my heart, I knew I’d already made up my mind. I just needed to figure out a way to make it work.
Chapter 7
Tuesday morning, I went through my normal routine. I dressed, took care of Aggie, and drove to work, despite the fact Linda Kay had sent a text letting me know I didn’t need to go in to work that day. Jacob was out with a broken ankle, and she and Edward were taking their time driving back to Chattanooga. They were going to take the back roads rather than the interstate so they could stop at a few antique shops along the way. However, I had a few things I wanted to get cleaned up, so I went to work as usual.
I spent the morning tying up loose ends with the end-of-the-month accounting and preparation for filing taxes. Most people didn’t realize nonprofit organizations still had to file tax returns every year, but they did. Nonprofits must file a return, but if they’re recognized as 501C3s, they wouldn’t have to pay taxes. It was early for thinking about taxes, which wouldn’t be filed until May, five months from now. However, as a temporary employee, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be working for the museum. My assignment wasn’t firm. The museum could decide my services were no longer needed tomorrow, and that would be the end of my job security. I doubted if Lin
da Kay would let that happen. I knew she was fighting to get a permanent position added, but I also knew the decision was outside of her control. Regardless of whether I was still working in May or not, I wanted everything to be ready for whoever filed the forms.
I planned to leave at noon, but right before I was getting ready to go, I got a call from my bank.
I’d forwarded the sales contract for the house to the mortgage broker I’d been working with right after Monica Jill sent it to me.
“Hello, Denise,” I said cheerfully.
After the first few moments, my smile was gone from my face and my voice. “What do you mean you might not be able to approve my loan? You already approved it. I got preapproved before I started house hunting.”
I had never met Denise, but her voice sounded young. She told me there had been a change in my credit ranking from the time she initially preapproved me for the loan and now. She said my credit was fine, but apparently my husband had a lot of debt, which was impacting my credit score. He’d maxed out his credit card and purchased a condo and a new car.
“My husband? Albert? How on earth is Albert buying a condo or using credit cards? He’s dead.”
Denise rattled off a Social Security number, which I verified was indeed my late husband’s. “Then it looks like your husband is the victim of identity theft.”
“But I have a death certificate. How is anyone getting credit when he’s dead?”
Denise was sympathetic and promised to talk to her supervisor to find out what, if anything, they could do to help me. However, it was up to me to get busy working with the credit bureaus to make sure nothing would be connected to me in any way. Given the fact Albert was dead, this should be easy, but someone had managed to get credit for a dead person, and companies who had been fleeced were often anxious to locate anyone they could to help collect either their property or their money.
When I hung up, I sat for several minutes and stared out the window at the Tennessee River without really seeing it. When I finally shook myself, I grabbed my cell phone and quickly dialed my daughter.