Dog-Gone Murder

by Marnette Falley

  Angela turned back to Po. “Dr. Maggie should have a few minutes while Tess starts talking to Mrs. Johnson about

  Betsy’s history. Will that be enough for you to talk with her?”

  “That will be great, Angela,” Po said. “Thank you.”

  Angela showed her to Maggie’s small office, and sure enough, moments later Maggie dropped into her office chair, looked over the desk at her friend and sighed, wilting into a heap. “Hi, Po.”

  “Is there anything I can do, Maggie? I’ve been wishing I could help you today.”

  “I sure appreciate it, but I can’t think of anything.” Maggie looked worried and tired. She rubbed the back of her neck unconsciously, ruffling the curls at the base of her head. Po would bet money that she’d spent most of the night awake.

  “Maggie,” she said quietly. “I know you’ve been thinking that Fitzgerald escaped. But is there any reason someone would take him on purpose?”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “I never considered that,” she said, surprised. “He’s a valuable dog, but you couldn’t show or breed him without giving yourself away.”

  “Really,” she mused, “he’s more valuable to Mercedes than to anyone else.”

  “Taking Fitzgerald would certainly be a blow to Mercedes then, right?” Po said.

  “Well, yes, that’s true,” Maggie said. “But if someone took him, they’d have to get into the clinic to do it. That’s a little scary.”

  “You really haven’t even looked for signs that someone broke in, though, have you?” Po asked.

  “No, we haven’t,” Maggie agreed. “But I think we’d have noticed anything obvious.” She paused for a moment, thoughtful.

  “Still,” she said, “right now more people than normal would have access. We’ve had electricians and plumbers and contractors and painters and who knows who else troop through in the past three months to do the work on the reception area and build the boarding suites. They don’t all have keys, but some do. And we’ve left them here in the evenings to close up after themselves.”

  Just then Angela stuck her head around the doorframe. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, preparing to back out.

  “It’s OK, Angela,” Maggie said. “What do you need?” She came in, looked at Po, and then perched on the edge of one of the two chairs in Maggie’s office.

  “You know I don’t like to get anyone in trouble,” she said.

  “Of course,” Maggie said. “What’s going on?” Angela sat for a few seconds, looking at her feet.

  “I think Aaron might be stealing food,” she said.

  “Really?” Maggie said, sounding surprised.

  “I didn’t want to think so,” Angela said, her words tumbling out in a hurry now. “He’s so nice. He always pitches in and he’s great with the dogs and all. He never complains. But this is the second time I saw him load a big bag in his trunk.”

  “Do you know when exactly?” Maggie asked. “On what days?”

  “This weekend was the second time,” Angela said. “On Saturday. And the first time was about a month ago, but I don’t know exactly.”

  “I appreciate you bringing this up,” Maggie said. “I’ll meet with him to discuss it.”

  “You won’t tell him it was me, will you?” Angela said.

  “I don’t want him to be mad with me.”

  “I’ll try not to bring you into it,” Maggie said.

  “Thank you,” Angela said. “I really do think he’s a good guy.”

  And with a tight smile, she stepped out and left the two friends looking at one another.

  “One more problem,” Maggie said. “Just what I need.”

  “Do you really think he took the food?” Po asked.

  “There’s no way to know without talking with him,” Maggie said. “And then it still may not be a sure thing.”

  Maggie stood up and smiled wearily at Po. “I hope I come out of this one, Po.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Maggie,” Po said with more confidence than she was feeling. “Do you mind if I look around a little before I leave? And can you come for dinner tonight? It won’t be late, I promise.”

  Maggie smiled, gave her permission to snoop, promised to come by later and disappeared into the exam room next door to tend to little Betsy.

  Po left Maggie’s office feeling a little unsure of her next step. What exactly was she going to look at? As she stood in the hall uncertainly, Angela bustled by.

  “Are you heading back out, Po?” she asked.

  “Actually, I thought I’d take a look around,” she said.

  “Really?” Angela stopped short. “What are you looking for?”

  “Well …” Po felt funny sharing her motivation, but how would she learn anything if she didn’t start asking a few questions. “Well, it occurred to me that maybe someone let Fitzgerald out on purpose.”

  Angela looked shocked. “But … but …” she stuttered for a moment. “Who would ever do that? And why?” she said.

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Po admitted. “Maybe it’s a crazy idea. But still, I thought I’d take a look around, just in case.” Angela was still staring at her mutely.

  “You haven’t noticed anything odd, have you?” Po persisted.

  “No,” Angela said. “Although we’ve been in a bit of an uproar, what with our team being scattered around looking for Fitzgerald.”

  “Well,” Po said. “I think I’ll at least take a close look at all the doors. And could you give me a list of everyone who has a key?”

  “Well, of course,” Angela said, regaining something close to her normal composure. “I’ll do that for you right now. I actually had to make some extra keys recently, to give to the contractor. But I can easily make a list of who has them,” and with that she headed back to the front desk.

  Po remembered that there was a side door to the clinic. Maggie had suggested that she leave that way on the difficult day when they’d put Moppin to sleep. A black Lab, Moppin had followed her young children all over the house, cleaning up any little spills they’d made. When she’d stopped eating, they knew the then-old dog was really ready to move on. But that hadn’t made the decision any easier.

  At least she’d had Maggie, Po thought. Maggie really understood how important Moppin was to their family and how much they’d miss her. And for how long. Maggie’s team had sent her a single red rose after their sad visit and a card where they’d all shared their memories of her sweet pup.

  But it was Maggie who’d checked in over the next few weeks to see how she was doing. And it was Maggie who understood the worst moments. When she woke up at night from a dream in which Moppin had nosed her and found she was gone. When she walked into the house and noticed for the 50th time that it was lacking the greeting she’d come to expect over 12 years with her four-legged girly. And it was Maggie who shared her joy when Hoover presented himself and made it clear that her house and her heart were intended all along to be his one day.

  Po made the short walk down the hall, past the comfort room that Maggie and her team used for special visits, including complicated conversations about pets and their owners’ options, such as euthanasia. And, just as she remembered, she found the door to the outside, where bereaved pet owners escape so they don’t have to face a reception area full of cheery dog and cat owners. The door had a keypad, which she assumed went to an alarm. She opened it and examined the doorknob, but didn’t see anything unusual. Feeling a little foolish and slightly let down, she went looking for the backdoor.

  “Can I help you?” asked a young woman as Po wound her way to the less public area of the clinic. Po had only been through the treatment area once before, during her first tour.

  “I’m a friend of Dr. Maggie’s,” she said with a smile. “Could you show me the back door? I’m doing a little unofficial snooping about Fitzgerald’s disappearance.”

  “Oh, sure,” said the slight blonde, with an engaging smile.

  “I’m Catie. I started here about six mon
ths ago. Come this way,” and she headed down the hall.

  “I mostly clean the kennels. I know it sounds like a drag, but it’s so fun to be with the animals,” she trailed off. “Here you go.”

  The back door looked just like the one on the side, the same grey metal. The same keypad.

  “Do you each have a code?” Po asked.

  “Yes,” Catie confirmed. “I was super afraid at first that I’d set off the alarm and the cops would come, but so far so good,” and she laughed.

  Po opened the door and examined the lock outside. Again, nothing. She noticed a relatively large enclosure to the left of the door, at the bottom of the two steps down to the alley. “Is that the trash?” she asked Catie.

  “Uh huh,” Catie said. “And also the freezer.”

  “Freezer?” Po queried.

  “Well, many pet owners have their pets cremated when they die,” Catie said. “But if they don’t choose to cremate their pet, we put the bodies in the freezer.”

  “Really?” Po said. “Then the owners bury them?” she asked.

  “Sometimes,” Catie said. “But in some municipalities it’s not allowed. And some pets never get claimed. Our refuse service takes away anything we tag in the freezer when they pick up the trash.

  Po decided she was glad she’d had Moppin cremated.

  “Well,” she said. “I guess that’s it.”

  “I sure hope you figure out where Fitzgerald is,” Catie said earnestly as she walked Po back to the front of the hospital.

  “He really is a beautiful dog.”

  “Aren’t they all?” thought Po as she walked back to the front of the clinic. And she vowed to take some time after she ran to the store and before she started dinner to throw Hoover his favorite tennis ball and brush him down. “At least 20 minutes,” she thought.

  She stopped back by the front desk where Angela had a bag of food and the list of people who had keys and codes to the clinic waiting. Digging through her purse, Po paid with the cash she’d picked up during her Saturday morning banking. Moments later she was headed to her car with the list of people who had access, the spot-on medication that kept Hoover victorious in the battle against fleas, and the uncomfortable feeling that there must be something more to learn.

  CHAPTER 6

  Hoover lay panting on the rug when the doorbell summoned Po. She found Maggie beaming on the front step in the shade of her 75-year-old oak tree and flourishing a bottle of champagne. “We found Fitzgerald!” she said the instant Po opened the door.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Po said with relief. “Oh, I’m so thrilled. Who found him?”

  Maggie stepped into the house and headed to the kitchen with Po in tow to put the bottle in the fridge where it would stay cold. “Aaron found him on his last pass down by the river,” Maggie said. “Angela called just a few minutes agoto tell me. He took Fitzgerald back to the clinic and gave him a bath. They said he doesn’t look as though there’s anything wrong with him.” Maggie looked at her watch. “I wanted to go check him out myself, but Angela said she’d already called Mercedes. She didn’t want to deliver him late, after all this trouble.” Maggie shook her head. “And it’s sure true that none of us needs to face any more of Mercedes’ wrath. Anyway, Aaron’s probably on his way to Mercedes’ house right now.”

  “That is such wonderful news,” Po said again. “Everyone will be so pleased.”

  “I’m working on an appropriate toast for when the rest of the crew gets here,” Maggie said. “Right now all I can think is, ‘Thank God!!’”

  Po laughed. “I certainly think that will work,” she said. Moments later Kate and Leah let themselves in and learned the good news.

  They poured the champagne and toasted to Fitzgerald and friendship, and then they gathered on the back deck again to eat some hummus and cut veggies and get the details while they waited for Max, who was coming just a little later. It was getting a bit chilly in the evenings, so Po had laid a fire in the chiminea and had passed out sweaters that she kept near the back door for these occasions. No one was surprised. They knew Po extended the out-on-the-deck season as far as she could.

  Kate was always sitting just as close to the fire as she could get. And it was a ritual with her to wash the campfire smell

  out of her hair when she got home from Po’s.

  “I guess we don’t need to give our report now,” said Kate with an exaggerated sigh. “Darn, because we did such a good job.”

  “We still don’t really know how Fitzgerald got out, though,” said Po thoughtfully. “Of course, it may not matter so much now that he’s back. But it would still be nice to know what happened. Maybe we do need the report.”

  “Oh,” said Kate. “True. OK.” She paused for a moment and looked at Leah.

  “Well, we went by the dealership. I pretended to be looking for a car, and I asked for advice. They had a really darling blue Mustang, but I told him I had my heart set on red. The killer part is that I used to own one. I should never have gotten rid of that car.”

  “Your mom was pretty happy when you did,” Po said with a laugh. “She was always worried you’d land in a ditch in the winter.”

  Kate laughed at the memory of her mom’s many lectures on the topic. The thought emerged as a throaty rumble. Kate’s laugh always made Po smile, too. Although she often thought that Kate’s laugh always seemed too big for the space around her, somehow.

  “It’s true that they’re not that great when it’s slick and icy,” Kate said. “That’s why I keep driving my sensible junker and riding a bike. When I start thinking about my dream cars, I need about three. A Jeep for the snow. A convertible for the summer. A monster truck so I could pull a boat to my as-yet-only-imagined lake cabin. I can’t afford the insurance on my fleet. And it would look ridiculous when I parked them all in front of my house. In fact, I doubt there’s enough curb.”

  Leah smiled. “You seemed pretty interested in the idea of a red Mustang today, for sure. You were very convincing.”

  “I’m easily enthused,” Kate said. “One of my most charming qualities, I’m sure. Anyway, the sales guy went to check on what else they’d have coming in.”

  “That was great,” Leah chimed in, “because we learned that Jack Francis wasn’t there. He came back and said he wasn’t sure, but that his boss would be back in the morning, and he might know about other cars that would be available over the next three to six months.”

  “Leah worked magic here,” Kate said. “She asked a bunch of questions about how many cars they get in and whether interest seems to be accelerating.”

  “It does seem from the answers that the dealership may be in trouble,” Leah said. “He said there might not be anything for a while—but that he could make us a deal on something in stock. He seemed pretty anxious to sell us something.”

  “It’s hard to know whether that’s unusual, though,” Kate admitted. “I sort of expect car salesmen to wheel and deal, you know?”

  There was a pause as they all thought about what Kate and Leah had said. Then, with his usual impeccable timing, Max arrived to fill the gap in conversation. He topped off all their drinks and got himself one. They toasted to Fitzgerald’s good health and got Max up to date on his whereabouts. Then they talked about the quilt for the benefit, celebrating their progress to date while Po bustled around getting dinner ready. She had

  made lasagna with Italian sausage, one of Max’s many favorites. She slid some bread into the oven to warm and tossed the salad with her traditional oil and vinegar dressing. In just a few minutes they gathered at her long table to eat.

  “Do you know Jack Francis?” Po asked Max as they all started helping themselves to the available fare.

  “Not really,” Max said. “I’ve met him a couple of times, but only because I’ve done some work for Mercedes.”

  “What did you do for her, Max?” Kate asked.

  “I consulted with her on her estate planning,” Max said.

  “So you kno
w who gets what?” Kate asked.

  “Yes,” Max said with a smile, “but you know I can’t tell.”

  “Isn’t that always the way,” said Maggie with a laugh. “You never get to tell the good stuff.”

  Po wanted to ask some more about Mercedes, but she dropped it, for the moment. She knew Max didn’t like to talk about his clients’ business. But maybe there was something he could tell her later that would help.

  In the meantime the conversation shifted. Kate got some advice from Leah on her next week’s class. Maggie and Kate made plans to go to an interesting exhibit at a nearby art gallery.

  Leah left the gathering first, anxious to tackle the first stack of papers she’d received from this semester of students. “I am not getting behind this year,” she vowed as she made her goodbyes, “I have my personal Teacher of the Year award picked out, and I intend to earn it.”

  Leah picked out a piece of jewelry at the beginning of the school year, and then she’d buy it on the day she turned in her grades to celebrate the successes of her year. Po thought it was an inspired idea. She always asked about it, and Leah took her by her favorite jewelry store to point out the necklace she’d picked out. It was a five-strand freshwater pearl necklace, with spacers of peridot, and aquamarine. It would look stunning on Leah, Po was convinced.

  Kate headed out next. She was meeting P.J. Flannigan after he got off his shift. Her tumultuous first love from high school had provided the same excitement and a warmer friendship since they’d become reacquainted on her return to her hometown. When he wasn’t on duty, you could generally find the handsome police officer with Kate. “Is P.J. off on Friday?” Po asked. “It seems like forever since he’s come by.”

  “I’ll ask him,” said Kate with a knowing smile. She knew Po watched over their deepening relationship with the mix of affection and anxiety that her mother would have felt. “You know you’re his favorite meddlesome aunt ever,” she teased. Po just smiled. She actually was god-mother to both Kate and P.J., although she was never certain whether they’d made that connection.

  Maggie and Max were putting away the leftovers and washing the dishes when she rejoined them.