As I put Biscuit into her enclosure, a thought struck me. I quickly called Bridget and told her the quandary: Buffer and Earl, Shea’s dogs, did not have their caretaker. “I can call Billi Matlock of Mountaintop Rescue to take them in for now at least, if that’s okay,” I said.
“I’ll get back to you soon,” Bridget said. Which she did. She had asked Shea what he wanted to do, and though he wasn’t talking about anything yet, he gave permission to have his dogs placed at Mountaintop Rescue … for now. Till he was out, he’d told the detective.
Right. Well, we’d see about that. But for now the most important thing was making sure his definitely innocent dogs were cared for.
Dinner at the resort had become a large party—nearly all my wonderful assistants, friends, and family in Knobcone Heights were there, including Reed, Arvie, Billi, and the Joes. Neal had booked us an area on the patio so I could bring Biscuit. Of course. No way was I leaving my pup at home, even though the person who’d threatened her was in custody.
Nearly the whole gang had heard some of what had happened, but, wine glass in hand, I stood and gave them a detailed rundown.
“But,” I said as I finished, “I have to caution you not to go around accusing Shea of anything other than threatening Biscuit and me, and of course what he did to us this afternoon. Any connection between him and Raela’s murder is still just speculation.”
“Maybe,” called Dinah.
I felt my eyes open wider. “Have you found something?”
“Nothing definitive … yet. Wait till tomorrow.”
They all toasted me, sweet people. And we all indulged in a wonderful dinner.
Previously, I’d asked Dinah who her research resource was at our veterinary clinic and not gotten an answer. Nor did Dinah seem inclined to share her information now, even as we were all expressing an interest in her research abilities. I figured I might not be the one to prove who the killer was—but it wouldn’t matter, if Dinah could help to stitch up the many loose ends in this murder case.
Afterward, Reed drove his car behind mine to my house, where I left my car and then went home with him. When we were alone inside, after walking the two dogs near his house, he kissed me and scolded me and thanked me for perhaps solving the case and getting the cops off his back—at least for now, and hopefully forever.
“You know I love you, Carrie, don’t you?” he asked as we got ready for bed.
“I certainly hope so, since I love you,” I responded.
There was no mention of any commitment like marriage or moving in together, and that was fine with me. But love? Well, that could be a commitment unto itself.
Despite knowing that my schedule for the next morning required rising early, as usual, I didn’t fall asleep for a while, even when I heard Reed’s breathing elongate, indicating he was sleeping.
Would the cops discover any evidence to link Shea to Raela’s murder?
Was Dinah actually finding any potentially helpful information in her research?
Where was my relationship with Reed headed?
And this was the final murder in Knobcone Heights I would get involved with—right?
Thirty
I did manage to get to the shops on time the next morning—very early, as always. I believed Vicky was supposed to join me first, and though she had been at the dinner the previous night, I felt sure that my top scheduler would be on time.
Which she was.
Dinah was to arrive next, but Janelle beat her. Interesting.
Both shops had a lot of customers by the time Dinah arrived looking exhausted but full of smiles. “I think we need to go talk to your cop friends,” she said. “They might have found some of this online, too, or they could, but this could save them some time—and help keep your buddy the lawyer in jail.”
She gave me a quick rundown of what she’d found as I made sure Vicky and Janelle were prepared to take full control of the shops. I decided to let Biscuit stay in their care, too. I was positive—almost—that the person who’d threatened her wouldn’t be around my shops ever again.
What Dinah had found, to my surprise, didn’t prove that Shea was a killer at all, let alone Raela’s murderer. But it was enough to get things started with the police that resulted in an outcome I hadn’t foreseen.
First, we went to Chief Loretta’s office. Bridget was away from the station working on the investigation against Shea, but Wayne joined us.
“I looked Shea up on the California State Bar website,” Dinah said. “His credentials there indicate he’s been practicing law in Knobcone Heights for around eight months, and before that he came from Corverville in Northern California, a town near Eureka. The media reports there suggested some somewhat shady things about him, though without any specifics, and so I made a few quick calls this morning.”
Even if I’d thought to Google the guy before hiring him as my lawyer, this probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Nor would it have pointed to Shea as a killer.
Dinah went into more detail—and the upshot was that the District Attorney of Corverville had agreed to show up in Knobcone Heights the next day to speak with the police.
And the consequence of that? Well, about a week later, Dinah and I were invited back to the police station, on the condition of our complete silence about what we were about to watch through one-way glass. The window was like the kind they show on television, where people can look into an interrogation room but those inside can’t see out.
Inside the room, in addition to attorneys from the local District Attorney’s office, were Shea and the lawyer he’d hired to represent him: my attorney friend Ted Culbert. Interesting that Ted would take on Shea, but maybe lawyers felt obligated to help other lawyers.
The discussion inside the room took a while, with lots of questions and objections and all. But between what Dinah had discovered and what I heard during the interrogation, I gleaned quite a lot:
Apparently, the Corverville DA had told the local authorities, including the Knobcone Heights District Attorney, that yes, Shea Alderson had practiced law in their town. Over a year ago, he’d taken on a client who’d been bribing local officials and needed representation when caught. Allegedly bribing, although some officials had been convicted. The guy had also been wily enough to plant evidence that indicated Shea was the one doing the bribing—or so Shea had claimed. There was enough doubt about it that Shea managed to save himself and stay out of jail, but he wound up leaving the area because of how badly his reputation had been damaged by the media only hinting of nonspecific allegations. None of his local clients had stayed with him.
The only good information about Shea online and in media reports was that he took on representation of animal shelters for low or no cost.
And that wily client of his? Well, he’d been killed in what appeared to be a hit-and-run accident with his own car. The perpetrator hadn’t been caught even when the car in question was located, despite all the suspicions against Shea.
It was around that time that Shea had left, claiming he couldn’t stay any longer because of the way townsfolk now thought of him. He found a new home in Knobcone Heights.
It turned out Dinah wasn’t the only person who’d researched Shea’s background and found the problems. Raela had done so, too. And in exchange for her silence, she’d gotten Shea to represent her in the opening of her new veterinary clinic—in leasing the property it was on—in getting things started to make sure her veterinary license was adequate to run a vet hospital. And more. And more. For compensation that kept getting reduced.
Apparently, Shea had eventually had enough. He’d visited Raela at her new clinic early one morning. Unfortunately for her, Raela had allowed Shea to watch her deal with some of her initial patients, including one very ill dog that had to be euthanized.
And so Shea knew where the pentobarbital, and the hypodermics to administer it, were kept and how to use them.
At the beginning of the interview, Ted Culbert told his client to
be quiet, especially since there was apparently no physical evidence linking Shea to the crime. But when the Corverville DA came into the room, Shea told his counsel where to go and decided to make a full confession to get a plea deal. He even admitted to threatening Biscuit with that note and making sure to leave no fingerprints.
Shea had known what he was doing. He was, after all, a lawyer who, he claimed, respected the legal system.
Not people, perhaps, but the legal system.
So, yes. I had helped to catch another murderer.
I’d also visited Mountaintop Rescue several times over the past week, to check on Earl and Buffer as well as to bring some leftover treats.
And to see Billi. The day after watching the interrogation, sitting in her office sipping coffee, I shared some of the things I’d learned about Shea Alderson. I labeled everything as “suspicions,” though, and I didn’t mention that Shea had confessed to murdering Raela in order to avoid the most onerous sentence, which I assumed could be the death penalty even though that sentence would probably not be carried out in our state. This information hadn’t gotten into the media yet, so to let Billi absorb the news slowly, I pretended not to be aware.
Billi did seem concerned, but apparently she hadn’t really been interested in Shea except as a friend and fellow animal lover —fortunately.
“If he’s convicted, do you think he’ll get to see any dogs in prison?” I asked Billi. I figured a city council member was more likely to know this than a veterinary assistant. “Some institutions bring in canines that inmates help train as service dogs.” Maybe Shea would be allowed to do that if he had good behavior.
“I suppose it’ll depend on which prison he’s incarcerated in,” Billi said.
I wondered how a lawyer who was a murderer would do in prison. I supposed it wouldn’t be as bad as it would be for an imprisoned cop. Maybe.
“How did you learn all this about Shea?” Billi finally asked.
I just grinned at her. “I’ll tell you when I can.” Then I changed the subject, discussing the adoption event we were holding that coming Saturday.
It was as great as the last one. Maybe greater. Quite a few cats were brought to my shops in carriers, and dogs were leashed on the Barkery floor. We had volunteers helping again, as well as my assistants, and the Barkery was full of people and leashed pups there to hopefully find new homes. Of course, Shea wasn’t one of the helpful volunteers this time, but his two dogs Earl and Buffer were there to be adopted.
No matter what else Shea might be, he was someone who loved dogs, especially his own. He’d signed the paperwork to relinquish them for adoption.
I gave him a lot of credit for that. It had to have been hard. Apparently harder for him than murdering a human.
I wasn’t surprised, but I was pleased when Mayor Sybill Gabbon came in right as our event opened. She wore a suit with her moderate-height black heels and, as usual, looked very mayor-ish. But instead of coming over to say hi to me, she knelt on the tile floor and began playing with the dogs who’d been brought from Mountaintop Rescue.
“Hi, Mayor,” I said, hurrying over to her. Billi joined me. The mayor apparently really did love animals—which was something that always raised people in my estimation.
Unless they also happened to be murderers of humans.
“Hello, Billi. Hello, Carrie. As I mentioned last time I saw you, I’m interested in adopting a dog—and I’d even consider more than one, especially since Corwin just loves dogs. He told me I could choose on his behalf before he gets here.” She hugged the canine who was closest to her, who happened to be Shea’s pit bull, Earl. Interesting. I wondered …
“Mayor, one of the reasons we’re holding this event is that two of the shelter’s latest rescue dogs belonged to Shea Alderson, the person who allegedly—”
“Committed the most recent murder in town. Yes, I’m aware of that, and these killings have to stop.” She rose and stared at me as if I’d had something to do with causing the murders, not solving them. But then she relaxed. “I understand that you once again had something to do with finding the alleged perpetrator. Congratulations, Carrie. And now please introduce me to that man’s dogs. I’m sure that becoming orphaned that way has to be hard on them.”
“You just hugged one of them,” I informed her. “That’s Earl. And the other is Buffer, that yellow Lab mix.” I pointed just beyond where Earl sat. Both leashes were being held by Janelle.
“Let me play with them both a little,” Mayor Gabbon said. She knelt once more, and I wondered how she did it in her skirt and heels. But Janelle released the dogs’ leashes, and the mayor was soon almost rolling on the floor with them, laughing and hugging them.
So our usually remote, aloof, and inaccessible mayor wasn’t so bad after all.
And I liked her a whole lot more a little later, when she told Billi that she wanted to adopt both dogs.
“Great!” Billi said. “Let me get the paperwork together.”
I joined her at the counter where she was filling out the adoption forms. “So, are you going to do a major interrogation about how these dogs will be treated, and a home check to make sure all’s prepped for them?” I asked.
Billi knew I was kidding—sort of. “I’ll ask a few standard questions and maybe leave things open for a home check, but someone in the public eye like our mayor had better be a good dog mama or the world will know. And I’ll want to know more about why her son is moving home—and what kind of a person he is.”
“That’s what I figured. So this should have a good result.” It appeared that the murder, as bad as it was, hadn’t ruined all the lives involved.
Which made me smile—even as another visitor skipped up to the counter and asked to adopt a little doxie mix who was a newbie to the shelter.
Reed popped in toward the end of the adoption event, when almost all of the cats who’d come and most of the dogs had found new homes.
I couldn’t help asking, “What’s going on with Oliver? Is he going to keep that new veterinary clinic going?” If so, I wondered if Ted Culbert would be able to help him now with any legal and licensing issues.
“No,” Reed said. “Arvie just hired him to join us at our clinic.” Which made me smile.
No one seemed to know what was going to happen with the new clinic. Apparently Dr. Mickey Krohan had been asked if the files at the San Diego veterinary hospital contained anything about Raela that could be used to locate any heirs—but even if any were found, I figured it was unlikely her relatives would keep the new place going.
And Dr. Mickey himself? Well, though he’d said he might take the new clinic over, he’d now told Reed he had no intention of doing so.
Reed and I had a date scheduled for that night. We’d been spending a lot of time together that week, even at the clinic when he had to handle emergencies in the middle of the night and needed the help of a vet tech.
I was always exhausted the next day, of course, when I went to my shops—but it was worth it. Being with Reed. Assisting this wonderful vet in saving animals’ lives.
Sharing a lot with him—including a relationship that appeared to be going somewhere.
I still wondered where, but I was happy about taking my time to find out.
I recalled only too well his telling me not long ago that he wanted us to spend some quality time together—maybe away from Knobcone Heights—and to talk about our future. But things had been chaotic and uncertain then.
Well, those things had been resolved.
And I believed it was finally time for a little travel … and talk.
the end
barkery and biscuits dog treat recipe
Peanut Butter Dog Treats
1⁄2 cup whole wheat flour
Dash ground ginger
1⁄4 cup creamy peanut butter
2 tbsp unsweetened applesauce
2 tbsp water
Preheat oven to 350ºF.
Combine flour and ground ginger.
Co
mbine peanut butter, applesauce, and water. Add to flour mixture. Mix with spatula until well combined.
Use your hands to knead dough and press into a ball.
Place dough on a flat surface and press until about 1⁄4 inch thick (or use rolling pin).
Use favorite cookie cutters (bone-shape, heart) to cut dough into desired shape. Can also cut dough into thin strips and twist to shape into spirals.
Bake for 15–20 minutes until golden brown.
Store in airtight container or in refrigerator.
Tip: Can also make with ripe banana instead of applesauce.
Makes about 60 small dog treats.
icing on the cake people treat recipe
I’ve included this because I’m a chocoholic and really love these brownies. The fact that they’re relatively simple to make also earns them lots of points in my opinion.
However, they are definitely not dog treats! Chocolate is poisonous to canines. But enjoy these as great people treats!
Make-in-My-Sleep Brownies
4 squares (1 oz each) unsweetened chocolate
1 cup margarine (2 sticks)
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp salt
Melt chocolate and margarine in microwave. Cool.
Add remaining ingredients. Mix well.
Pour into greased jelly roll pan (15” x 10”); or line pan with non-stick foil for easy removal.
Bake 325ºF for 25 minutes.
Sprinkle with powdered sugar while still warm.
When cool, cut into squares.
acknowledgments
As always, I want to thank my wonderful agent Paige Wheeler, as well as the delightful people at Midnight Ink who work with me: editor Terri Bischoff and production editor Sandy Sullivan, and the publicists, including Jake Kent.
And since I admire people who cook and develop recipes, particularly since I’m not among them, I definitely want to thank my friend Paula Riggin, who provided both recipes this time: Peanut Butter Dog Treats, which my dogs Mystie and Cari loved when they tried them, and Make-In-My-Sleep Brownies, which my husband Fred and I loved and shared with others.
Pick and Chews Page 23