Dial C for Chihuahua

by Waverly Curtis

  Rebecca sank back in her chair.

  “This explains everything!” she said, with a hysterical tone in her voice. “Mandy was the other woman! David was going to run off with her while I was in L.A.! No wonder he encouraged me to go down there and work on the show. He knew it would leave the coast clear for them to make their getaway!”

  “So if they were running away together, why did he end up dead?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he changed his mind at the last minute. Maybe she killed him in a fit of rage when he told her he couldn’t go through with it. All I know is I’m going to kill that little bitch!”

  “Do not fear, Siren Song,” said Pepe, going over to her. She had sunk down on the floor and put her head on her paws. “She does not mean you!”

  Chapter 40

  It felt strange to leave my house without Pepe. And he made it even harder, dashing at the door as soon as he realized I was leaving, worrying at my ankles and saying, “Do not leave me! I want to go with you! Take me along!” It was heartbreaking to see how attached he was to me.

  I realized with a shock that we had hardly ever spent any time apart during the five days since I first adopted him. And what a ride we had been on during those five days! Should I blame Pepe for all the drama in my life? Then I would also have to blame him for the handsome man beside me. If it hadn’t been for Pepe, I would never have met Felix.

  Felix had proposed going out to dinner, “just the two of us,” as away of compensating for the stress of our first date, and I eagerly agreed. I needed a break from worrying about murders and Ponzi schemes, abused dogs and bad dogs and talking dogs.

  The restaurant Felix suggested was a little romantic bistro just a few blocks from my house. Despite its proximity, I had never eaten there. It seemed like a place meant for lovers, not the sort of place you would feel comfortable dining alone.

  The interior was dark, a warren of little tables. The hostess led us to a table for two, close to the front of the restaurant. A flickering candle on the table cast a dramatic light on Felix’s face, highlighting his prominent nose and strong jaw. I worried about what it would do to my face but Felix looked over and said, “Wow, you look beautiful in candlelight,” so I guess it was good.

  I could see out to the rain-soaked street and the cars splashing by, but inside it was warm and cozy. There was a constant murmur of conversation from the other diners but they seemed far away, in the dark corners of the place. It felt like Felix and I were tucked inside a secret cave that had opened up just for us.

  We studied the menus, chatting about our favorite foods, before ordering. I asked for a glass of Prosecco, continuing the celebration that had been so abruptly cut short at Rebecca’s house. When we left, she was on the phone with the police, trying to convince them to pick up Mandy for questioning. I had already told Felix as we walked to the restaurant about the latest developments.

  “What did you decide to do with the card case?” Felix asked as the waitress, a tall woman with a long braid, arrived with our appetizers—mussels for me and calamari for Felix.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” I asked. “The police showed up at my door right after you left. They seemed to know right where to look. They headed straight for the refrigerator.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, probably the wrong thing,” I confessed. I took a bite of the mussels. They were delicious, lightly tossed with tomatoes, harissa, vermouth, and leeks.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I know I should have handed it over to them but I was so afraid they would just cart me off to jail. So I gave it to Pepe.”

  “You gave it to Pepe?”

  “Yes. He hid it for me. The police searched the house but they didn’t find it.”

  “Where did he hide it?”

  “In the cat litter.”

  “That makes sense,” Felix said. “Chihuahuas like to burrow.”

  “You seem to know a lot about them.”

  “I worked on the set of Beverly Hills Chihuahua. That was quite an experience. During the scene set in the Mayan pyramids, we were working with over one hundred Chihuahuas. It was a lot like herding cats.”

  “Oh, I loved that movie!” I said. “I think that was what influenced me to adopt a Chihuahua. That and the news stories about how many were being abandoned in L.A. It must have been a treat to work with so many of them.”

  “Do you know they are in the bottom ten dog breeds in terms of trainability?” Felix asked.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry much,” he said. “Your little dog seems bright and eager to please.”

  “Why do you suppose they are so hard to train?” I asked.

  “If you look at the breeds that are easy to train, like German shepherds and border collies and Australian sheepdogs, you realize they are all working dogs. They’ve spent centuries working alongside humans, being trained to do very specific tasks. But Chihuahuas? Not so much.”

  “What are they good for?” I wondered.

  “There are a few theories about Chihuahuas,” Felix said. “Including the theory that they were raised for food by the ancient Incas.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that one.” I made a face as the waiter chose that moment to bring our entrees—a vegetarian pasta dish for me, a New York steak for him.

  “Another theory is that they were temple dogs.”

  “Oh, that’s better,” I said, taking a bite of my pasta. It was perfectly cooked, just a little bit chewy, and complemented by the tang of the fresh spinach and the bite of peppercorns.

  Felix cut into his steak. Pink liquid oozed out. I had to look away. “Not really,” Felix said. His teeth seemed to gleam wolfishly in the candlelight. “Temple dogs were sacrificed during the rituals.”

  “Oh, Pepe won’t like that either!” I said. “Is that it? Killed for food? Or killed for the gods?”

  “Well, there is another theory,” Felix said. “Probably like many small dogs, they were raised to be companion animals for the nobility. And so they don’t really need to be trained. They’re used to being doted on.”

  I had to laugh. “That describes Pepe. He does think he’s in charge. Of me. And everything!”

  Just then my cell phone rang.

  “Oh, I forgot to turn it off.” I poked around in my purse. As I went to push the buttons that would make it go to silent, I realized that the call originated on my home phone. That was strange. How could someone be calling from my home phone?

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Felix. “I need to get this call.” Even though I think it’s the height of rudeness to answer a cell phone while on a date, I just couldn’t resist. I got up and walked away, flipping the phone open as I went.

  “Hello? Hello?” I said, as I walked towards the back of the restaurant looking for the restrooms. I found a little hallway, sealed off from the restaurant by a long, heavy, red velvet curtain. It was dark back there and quiet. Still I couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. Was someone in my house? Taunting me by calling my cell phone? I felt a thrill of terror. What if they had harmed Pepe?

  “Hello!” I said again.

  Chapter 41

  “Geri, it is I, Pepe!”

  “What?”

  “Yes, I figured out how to work your telephone. It is muy simple. Once I got access to it!”

  “How did you do that?” And what was I going to tell Felix?

  “I knocked it down on the floor by pulling on the wire.”

  I sighed. “Why did you bother to do all of this?” I asked.

  “Because I miss you, Geri. I want you to come home,” he said.

  “Pepe, I’m in the middle of dinner. It’s very rude to disturb someone when they are eating dinner.”

  Surprisingly that seemed to work.

  “Oh, I understand that,” he said. “But you have left me without any dinner.”

  “Forget it, Pepe,” I said. “You are not going to m
ake me feel guilty. When I left you had a full bowl of food.”

  “Yes, but it is now gone. And I am lonely and bored.”

  “Go watch TV!” I said.

  “There is nothing good on tonight.”

  A woman came in looking for the bathroom. I squeezed against the wall and pointed her towards the door at the end of the hall.

  “Well, I’ll be home in about an hour. You will just have to find a way to entertain yourself until then.”

  “So you give me permission to entertain myself in any way I see fit.”

  “Yes, I mean, No! What do you have in mind?”

  “You will see when you get home,” Pepe said.

  “You better not make a mess,” I said.

  “How could I make this mess worse?” he asked. I still had not picked up after the police search.

  “Good point. I am hanging up now. Do not call again! I won’t answer the phone!”

  “Teenager?” the woman asked, her hand on the door.

  I nodded. Pepe was as bad as a teenager.

  “You might regret that,” Pepe said.

  “Why?”

  “Because Rebecca called about fifteen minutes ago. She said she had important news for you.”

  “And you gave her my cell phone number?”

  “No, I tried but she did not seem to understand me. Did you not give it to her yourself?”

  I thought about that. I had given her one of my new cards earlier in the day.

  “Apparently she doesn’t consider it important enough to bother me at dinner time!” I told Pepe.

  “What if something is wrong with Siren Song?” he asked.

  “I’m sure she would not call me to talk about her dog. She would call her trainer or her vet. Good night!” And I clicked the phone shut. But when I went back to the table, there was a nagging worry in the back of my mind. What might Pepe do if he felt Siren Song was in danger? And why would Rebecca call me at nine at night?

  As I settled back down in front of my now cold pasta, Felix looked up with a question in his eyes.

  “A wrong number!” I said.

  He looked a little doubtful at that. And I didn’t want to lie to him.

  “I think the dog knocked the phone off the hook,” I explained. “It was my home number, which is why I answered it.” I loaded my fork with the pasta but for some reason it didn’t look as appetizing.

  “Oh, I can see why you’d be concerned,” he said. “After the break-in the other night.” His plate was almost empty.

  “Yes, well I could hear Pepe on the other end and he seemed fine, so I’m not going to worry about it,” I said, which was actually easier to say than do. “How is Sarge when you leave him home alone? Does he ever get into trouble?”

  “Sarge?”

  “Yes, the dog that attacked my car.”

  “Oh, Sarge’s not my dog. I was training him for a client,” Felix said.

  “Training him to attack Toyotas?” I asked, but my joke did not go over well. Felix looked puzzled.

  “No, I was training him to get used to strangers. He’s an extremely shy dog. Emily, his owner, wants him to get more comfortable around strangers. So I had taken him to the convenience store where there would be a lot of pedestrian traffic and every time a stranger walked by, I gave him a treat. It was working pretty well, until he went crazy on me. I still can’t figure out why he did that. He’s not a dog-aggressive dog.”

  “Can I tell you something?” I asked. I put down my fork. Now was the time to tell him about Pepe’s unique talent.

  “Sure,” Felix set aside his fork.

  “I think it was my dog’s fault,” I said.

  “No, your dog was doing what comes naturally for a small dog. Protecting his territory,” Felix said. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “I’m not blaming myself,” I said. “It’s just that my dog—”

  “Are you done?” the waitress asked, coming to collect our plates. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”

  I was tempted, torn between wanting to spend more time with Felix and wanting to get home to find out what Pepe was doing.

  Felix must have seen the distress on my face. “Just the bill, please,” he said. I had to admit he was great at reading nonverbal signals.

  “I hate to end our date early,” I said, “but . . .”

  “I can see you’re worried about leaving your dog alone,” said Felix. “Maybe we can pick up some ice cream on the way back to your place.”

  Wow! He really knew the way to my heart. He seemed too good to be true.

  “You were saying something about your dog.” Felix picked up the conversational thread as we left the neighborhood market, carrying a pint of my favorite ice cream, chocolate chip cookie dough. It had begun raining and we stood under the awning, looking out at the raindrops flashing by, illuminated by the streetlights.

  “Yes,” I said. “Pepe has an unusual talent . . .”

  “Answering telephones?” Felix guessed.

  “No, more than that.”

  “Turning on the TV?”

  “No, it’s more than that.”

  “I’m intrigued,” said Felix.

  My phone started ringing.

  “Dialing the phone?” Felix guessed.

  “Yes, but that’s not it!” I said. I dug the phone out of my purse and flipped it open.

  “What do you want now?” I asked. “I’m on my way home. If you were good, I’ll give you some ice cream.”

  “I beg your pardon?” The voice on the other end was not Pepe’s.

  I looked at the screen. It said the caller was R. Tyler.

  “Rebecca?” I asked.

  “Yes, is this Geri Sullivan?”

  “Yes, sorry about that,” I said. “I thought I was talking to my dog.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Rebecca spoke.

  “Geri, I’ve got great news for you!”

  “Really, what?”

  “Mandy is behind bars where she belongs!” Her voice was full of triumph. “Thanks to you!”

  “Mandy murdered David?”

  “Yes! I convinced the police to question her. Apparently they went straight out and picked her up. It turns out they had DNA evidence that linked her to the crime. Something about a glove she dropped. Also her shoes matched the shoe print they found! Can you believe it?”

  “Wow!” I said. It was hard to express my amazement.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. You must come by first thing in the morning so I can give you your reward.”

  “Reward?”

  “Yes, I offered a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the murderer.”

  “But don’t you need the money for Dancing with Dogs?”

  “Oh, that’s not a problem,” she said. “I talked to Stewart. Naturally he was distracted, what with the news about Mandy. I think he had guessed about the affair, but who would think she was capable of murder?”

  “Yes, it’s hard to imagine.”

  “I told him about your concerns about the money and he assured me they were ungrounded. He put the transfer through and we should get a confirmation tomorrow. David’s investments are safe. I don’t know where you got your information, but it wasn’t accurate.”

  “Well, that’s great!” I said weakly. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Oh, and I want to draw up the contract for you and Pepe to participate in Dancing with Dogs. Come over at 11 AM tomorrow! Sherman will have the contract ready. You just need to sign it.”

  “Good news?” Felix asked when I flipped the phone shut.

  “Yes,” I said, still feeling dazzled. “Sullivan and Sullivan just solved their first case. And Pepe and I are going to be reality TV stars. I have to get home and tell Pepe!”

  Chapter 42

  In the gray light of the morning, I didn’t feel as exuberant as I had the night before. It had been a weird night—the romantic dinner with Felix had been overshadowed by Rebecca’s news.
Felix left earlier than I would have liked. But he did promise to return the next afternoon to give Pepe a training session. I was still trying to find a way to tell him about my dog’s unique talents.

  I sat down on the sofa beside Pepe with my morning bowl of cereal.

  “What if we were wrong?” I said to Pepe. “What if Mandy isn’t the murderer?”

  He was watching Paraiso perdido. I couldn’t understand much of what was going on, but I could tell it was muy dramático. A close up of Conchita, her eyes wide with horror. Cut to Hector, gazing out a window with tears streaming down those gorgeous cheekbones. I felt a little flutter as I thought of Felix and the sculpted planes of his face. I indulged in a moment of fantasy, imagining my fingertips moving lightly over those cheekbones, down to his lips.

  I awoke from this reverie slowly, opening my eyes just in time to see a ribbon of text running along the bottom of the television screen. It read SUSPECT IN TYLER MURDER RELEASED ON BAIL.

  “Quick! Hand me the remote control!” I said to Pepe.

  Pepe looked at me with horror. “Geri, you know I cannot do that!” he said.

  Sometimes I forget he’s a dog. “Of course you can’t. What was I thinking?” I reached for the remote control, which was lying on the floor.

  “No, Geri!” Pepe squeaked. “This is the scene when Hector learns the identity of his true father.”

  “Sorry, Pepe,” I said, “but there’s breaking news in the Tyler case.” I clicked over to the local news channel.

  The commentator was in the middle of a sentence: “. . . released on a million dollar bail.” The picture on the screen showed a young woman being rushed out of the jail, a jacket thrown over her head. I recognized the man at her side, Sherman Foot, dapper and stolid in a navy blue suit.

  How come he could represent her if he couldn’t represent me? On her other side was a woman most people would not have noticed—a small, dark-haired woman in a nice black silk pantsuit. (I wondered if it had once belonged to Rebecca.) It was Rosa, her eyes dark with worry as she steered her daughter through the gauntlet of cameramen and reporters waving microphones.

  “I find it hard to believe that they would release her,” I said.