“So,” she said with a quiet sigh, “I guess that’s that.”
Aunt Peg and I both nodded. Miles still looked skeptical. How could anyone not be moved by the emotional reunion taking place in front of us?
Maybe he wasn’t a dog person, I thought.
Eventually, Rory wriggled out from beneath the Dalmatians and stood up. He wiped his hand on his pants, then offered it to Emily. “Rory Scott,” he said. “Thank you for taking good care of my puppies.”
“I was happy to do it.” She glanced downward at the lively trio bounding back and forth between them. “I guess this means there’s no doubt?”
Before Rory could answer, Miles stepped in. He didn’t look happy about the way things were going.
“You can’t know with certainty that these dogs are your missing puppies,” he said. “All Dalmatians look the same.”
Aunt Peg, Rory, and I shared a look. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Definitely not a dog person, I thought.
“Emily told me what transpired yesterday,” Miles continued in the same steely tone. “Apparently these puppies possess considerable value. You can’t expect my sister to give them up simply because you allege to have a prior claim. Frankly, I don’t see any reason why she should believe you.”
“Miles, please . . .” Emily placed a hand on her brother’s arm.
He shrugged her away. “Let me handle this, Em. I’m looking out for your best interests. This man should have proof that the puppies belong to him. If such a thing actually exists, I’d like to see it.”
I’d already seen enough to be convinced. So had Aunt Peg. I expected Rory to bristle at the implied insult, but instead he just shrugged.
“I have their papers in the car. And a boatload of pictures on my phone. Pictures of these puppies with their dam when they were just babies, and then every week after that until they were stolen.” Rory smirked in Miles’s direction. “Even someone who thinks all Dalmatians look alike should be able to see the markings clearly enough to make a valid comparison.”
Aunt Peg went with Rory to retrieve his things. The puppies trailed along after them. I remained behind with Emily and Miles. As soon as Rory was out of earshot, Emily turned on her brother.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “You’re making things worse.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he shot back. “From what I can tell, his claim to these puppies isn’t any stronger than yours is.”
“I don’t have a claim to them,” Emily snapped. “Will showed up out of the blue and dumped them on me. He never said where they came from. And Rory’s story sounds perfectly plausible to me.”
Miles’s face pinched in annoyance. “You know what Will was like. He was Rumpelstiltskin, always trying to spin gold out of straw. And this guy was an accomplice of his. This was probably just another one of their scams. Now that Will’s gone, Rory is finishing it on his own. That doesn’t mean you have to be taken in by him.”
His gaze moved to me. “You’re her friend, Melanie. Tell Emily I’m right.”
“I can’t do that,” I said. “I believe Rory’s telling the truth. Poppy, Posey, and Pansy are his missing puppies.”
“He probably only wants them back because they’re worth money. You told Emily they were valuable.”
“No,” I replied carefully. “I told Emily that the puppies had great value for their breeder. They’re the last three bitches out of Rory’s best Dalmatian. They’re the continuation of his line.”
Miles just stared. “That all sounds like gibberish to me. Maybe you’re in on this deal too. Is that it? Is Rory paying you to back his claim?”
“Miles, cut it out,” Emily snapped. “Right now. I don’t want to hear another word from you.”
Her brother started to reply. She shook her head firmly.
“Will made his way in the world by taking advantage of people. He was always on the lookout for whatever weakness he could exploit. His Mr. Good Guy persona was just a sham, and by the time I knew him well enough to realize that, I hated him for it. If I can do one small thing to make up for some terrible deed Will committed, I’m going to do it.”
Good for you, I cheered silently.
Emily grasped her brother by the shoulders and turned him around. She gave him a nudge toward the buildings. “Go inside now. I’ll be along in a few minutes, as soon as things are settled out here.”
“You don’t get it, Em. I’m trying to help you—”
“I don’t need your help, Miles. You have to leave this to me. Please?”
Miles’s expression was thunderous, but he did as his sister requested. Shortly thereafter, Aunt Peg and Rory returned with the puppies. Rory showed Emily the dogs’ AKC registration papers and win photos of both their parents. Then he brought out his baby pictures.
I was already convinced the Dalmatians belonged to Rory. Emily appeared to be too, but she stepped in for a closer look anyway. Her shoulders slumped as she scrolled through the photos and compared them to the puppies that were eddying around our legs.
After a minute, she cleared her throat softly and looked up. “When do you want to take them?”
“Now,” Rory stated boldly. “We brought three crates with us in the minivan.” Then he saw Emily’s expression and softened his words. “If that’s all right with you?”
“I guess so.” She nodded unhappily. “All three of them?”
“They’re all mine,” Rory told her. “It only seems fair.”
“I’m sorry, Emily, but Rory’s right,” Aunt Peg agreed. “It’s the only thing to do.”
Emily bit her lip. “It’s going to seem very quiet around here without them. Maybe I could come and visit them sometime?”
“Sure.” Rory was magnanimous in victory. “Why not?”
“Emily named the puppies,” I told him.
She nodded, then pointed to each Dalmatian in turn. “That’s Posey. This one’s Poppy. And she’s Pansy.” Each puppy looked up and pricked her ears at the sound of her name.
Watching and listening, Rory winced slightly. “I’m not much for flowers myself. Could be those won’t last long.”
Aunt Peg nailed him with a hard look. “During the transition period, using familiar names will help the puppies adapt to their new surroundings.”
“It won’t be much of a transition,” Rory shot back. “These puppies aren’t going to new surroundings. They’re going home.”
After that, there didn’t seem to be much more to say. Poppy, Posey, and Pansy ran on ahead as we all walked toward the parking lot. Aunt Peg and Emily took the lead. When Rory hung back, I slowed my steps too.
“Is everything all right?” I asked him.
He’d gotten everything he wanted. So I hoped he was happy.
Rory glanced at Aunt Peg ahead of us. “She’s taking the credit, but I’m guessing you’re the one who actually set this up. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I replied. I didn’t even hesitate. I was happy to be acknowledged for a change. Even if I didn’t deserve it.
“That’s what I thought. At the dog show, you asked me some questions. Maybe I could have said more than I did. But I wasn’t sure I could trust you then.”
I waited in silence for him to continue.
“Look at things from my perspective. When you showed up out of nowhere and told me you could get my puppies back, it sounded too good to be true. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s to be suspicious of good fortune that lands in your lap for no reason. You know what I mean?”
I could see that. Especially since most of Will’s and Rory’s schemes had probably been based on people’s failure to heed that exact warning.
“But now things have changed. You’ve done me a real solid here today. So maybe I owe you a little something in return. Unlike some people, I’m a guy who pays my debts. Maybe I could elaborate some on what I said before.”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “That would be helpful.”
�
�I knew Will was in trouble. He owed money to a guy he’d cut in on a deal that had gone south. Most times, people who’ve been had like that, they take their lumps and move on. This guy didn’t. He told Will to make good on his losses or else. That was why we set up the poker game to begin with. Will needed cash, and he needed it quick.”
“But the poker game didn’t help,” I remembered. “Instead it made things worse. Rather than making money, you lost even more.”
Rory grimaced at the truth of that statement. “After that, Will had to be pretty desperate. Because that’s when he swiped my puppies. He thought I’d cough up the money—but I couldn’t. I didn’t have that kind of cash lying around either.”
“And then Will disappeared,” I said.
He nodded. “What your aunt said the other day, I expect she had things right. Will was hiding from someone who wanted to hurt him.”
We’d almost reached the parking lot. Aunt Peg and Emily were loading the puppies into their crates. I was running out of time to get answers.
“On Friday, you told me you had no idea who Will was afraid of. Now that you’ve got your puppies back, has your memory improved?”
“I still don’t have a name for you, if that’s what you think.”
“It doesn’t have to be a name,” I said. “Just something to point me in the right direction.”
When Rory spoke, he lowered his voice. I leaned closer to make sure I wouldn’t miss a thing.
“All I know is that whoever the guy was, the reason Will couldn’t dodge him is because it was someone he was close to. Maybe even family. Someone like a brother. You know?”
A frisson of shock rippled through me. “Yes,” I replied softly, “I do.”
Owen Grace had lied to me once. This time I’d have to work harder to pin him down. I wasn’t about to give him the chance to lie to me again.
Chapter 30
When I got home, I was just as ready for a treat as Faith was.
Before anything could come up to stop me, I grabbed the Poodle’s leash and hustled her out to the front of the house, where I’d left my car. When I opened the car door, she hopped onto the back seat eagerly. Within seconds, we were on our way.
I glanced back at Faith over my shoulder. “Aren’t you even going to ask where we’re going?”
Happy! Happy! Her bright expression and wagging tail were enough of an answer for me.
Faith didn’t care where we were headed, as long as it was just the two of us. She probably expected me to take her to the park. Or possibly to visit friends. But after all the absences she’d had to deal with lately, this needed to be a special occasion.
So Faith and I were going out for ice cream.
There was an ice cream shop with a drive-up window in a nearby village. I’d decided on a cup of vanilla ice cream for Faith and a mint chocolate chip cone for myself. The Poodle stood up on the back seat and poked her muzzle out the half-open window as I stopped beside the drive-thru. A cheery young woman wearing a retro soda jerk hat leaned out to give Faith’s nose a pat.
“Is that a Doodle?” she asked.
“No, she’s a Standard Poodle. Her name is Faith.”
“That’s a big Poodle.” The girl smiled. “I hope she’s getting some ice cream too.”
“Of course.”
She took my order and returned in minutes. Thoughtfully she’d tucked a stack of extra napkins onto the cardboard tray. I drove to the other side of the small lot and parked the Volvo in the shade. I slid down all the windows, then I climbed in the back with Faith.
She lay down on the seat and held her cardboard cup between her front paws. I sat beside her with my cone. She lapped up her ice cream quickly. I took my time and savored every bit of mine. Faith finished first. After she’d licked the last of the vanilla ice cream off her nose, I broke my empty cone in half and split it with her.
Faith and I had been sharing ice cream since she was a fluffy puppy with curious dark eyes and feet that were too big for her body. Now the Standard Poodle was nine years old. Her muzzle was gray, and her joints occasionally stiffened. She enjoyed a heartfelt cuddle more than a brisk run.
I knew I wouldn’t have Faith with me forever. Most days, I simply refused to think about that. Instead I cherished moments like this one. The sun was warm, and the ice cream was delicious. Right now, Faith and I had all the time in the world to be together.
“I love you,” I told her.
The Poodle’s gaze softened. Her tail flapped up and down happily. I know!
It didn’t get any better than this.
* * *
The following morning, I dropped the boys off at camp and headed back to Southbury. The last time I’d gone to visit Owen Grace, I’d expected him to know I was coming. This time, I was hoping to surprise him. Although if Owen wasn’t at his office on this fine summer morning, the surprise would be on me.
When I opened the front door to the quaint building that housed Owen’s legal practice, I was hit with a blast of cold air. In the ten days since I’d been here, someone had fixed the air conditioning. The fake flowers in the hallway had been dusted too.
But when I walked to the end of the hall and let myself into the office whose brass plaque announced, OWEN GRACE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, nothing had changed. Just as before, Randy was seated behind her desk, gazing down at her phone. Once again, she took her time about looking up.
On the way to Southbury, I’d thought about the fact that I intended to ask Owen some uncomfortable questions. I’d decided it was a good thing that he and I wouldn’t be alone in his office in case our conversation took a bad turn. But now, staring down at the receptionist, I realized I’d probably given her too much credit. Randy barely looked capable of taking care of herself, much less coming to my rescue.
I closed the door behind me with a sharp rattle. Then I cleared my throat.
Slowly her eyes rose. Then they narrowed—as if Randy thought I might look familiar, but she had no idea why. I wondered if Owen was actually paying her to take up space in his reception area, or if hers was a volunteer position. Either way, he wasn’t getting his money’s worth.
“I’m here to see Owen Grace,” I said.
Randy glanced in the direction of the appointment book. Since I already knew what came next, I circumvented the move by asking another question.
“Is Owen in?”
“I’ll have to check,” she replied.
We’d been here before too.
“No need,” I said breezily. If she was going to check, Owen must be in his office. “I’ll just let myself in.”
Before Randy was even out of her seat, I’d already moved past her. Since she applied herself to her job with the speed of a sloth, it wasn’t much of a challenge. I didn’t knock, I just opened the door.
Inside the room, Owen was standing beside a bookshelf lined with weighty legal tomes. His finger was resting atop the spine of one as if he was about to pull it out. Casually dressed in khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt, his cheeks ruddy from the sun, Owen looked as though he might have just arrived at the office from an early morning round of golf.
He was already frowning when he turned to see who’d interrupted him. The sight of me standing there didn’t appear to improve his mood at all.
“Sorry.” Randy popped up behind me. “She didn’t give me a chance—”
“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Owen flashed her a quick smile. “Close the door, and go back to your desk.”
He waited until the door had clicked shut before addressing me. He stepped away from the bookshelf, planted himself in the middle of the room, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, Melanie Travis, you’re back to interrupt me again. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?”
It wasn’t the most effusive greeting, but at least he’d remembered my name. “With a receptionist like Randy, your life must be filled with unexpected interruptions,” I said.
“Summer help.” Owen shrugged. “She’s my neighbor’s nie
ce. He’s been encouraging her to go to law school. He thinks she’s going to be the next Robert Kardashian.”
I snorted out a laugh. “The next Kim Kardashian seems more likely.”
Owen looked briefly amused. I decided to take that as an invitation. I walked across the room and sat down in the same leather chair he’d offered me on my previous visit. For some reason, that amused him again. He strode behind his desk and sat down.
“I didn’t think we had much more to say to each other after the last time you were here,” he said.
“I didn’t either. But things have changed.”
“What things? All I know is that my brother is still dead, and the police still haven’t arrested Emily.”
“I told you before—she didn’t do it.”
Owen frowned. “Telling me and convincing me are two very different things. And as I recall, you never got past the first part.”
“Last time I was here, you told me you kept your brother’s business dealings totally separate from your own.”
“So?”
“Now I know that’s not true.”
“And how would you have come by that knowledge?” Owen inquired skeptically.
“A few months ago, Will tried to make a deal with Peyton Hancock,” I said.
“I don’t know anything about that.” The reply was quick and automatic. Then curiosity got the better of him. “What kind of deal?”
Owen’s swift denial had sounded genuine. I noted, however, that he hadn’t had to ask who Peyton Hancock was. Or what connection the man might have had with his brother.
“Will told Peyton that he could convince Emily to vacate the Graceland School property quickly and with minimum fuss. That would free up the land so the Hancock family could sell it for considerably more than her lease had been earning them.”
As he listened, Owen’s fingers had begun to drum quietly on the desktop. I hoped that was a sign of contemplation and not impatience.
“I assume Will wanted to be handsomely compensated for providing such a service,” he said.
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