Doggie Day Care Murder

by Laurien Berenson

  “I hope you were serious about wanting to help,” she said. “Because I’m going to take you up on your offer. I gotta tell you, the police don’t seem to have accomplished much yet, and that’s making me more than a little nervous.”

  “It would make me nervous, too, knowing that there’s a killer running around loose.” Alice gave a little shudder.

  “That’s just the half of it.” Candy’s fingers fiddled absently with an eraser on her desk. “The first thing the police do is look at the people who are closest to the victim. I guess those are the ones who are easiest to make into suspects. It didn’t take me long to figure out that puts me right on the firing line.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” I said practically. “The police want to know who gets the money. Steve was not only your brother. He was your partner. Did you inherit his share in the business?”

  “Yes, just as he would have inherited mine if I had been the one to die first. We both wrote our wills up at the same time, and both of us were looking to protect Pine Ridge.”

  “What about insurance?”

  Candy started to shake her head, then paused. “Well, sure, the business is covered. I mean, it has to be. But Steve didn’t have any life insurance and neither do I. At our ages, neither one of us thought it was necessary.”

  I supposed Candy was finding out just how costly that mistake had been. Still, as far as the authorities were concerned, that would score a point in her favor.

  “How was your relationship with your brother?” I asked. “Good?”

  “Yes, of course.” The answer was quick. And automatic.

  “I’m not the police,” I said. “Try to remember that I’m on your side.”

  “Even so,” Candy replied, “there isn’t that much else to say. We had the usual brother-sister squabbles, both when we were growing up and now. Working together, there were times we were at each other’s throats—usually with good reason. Steve and I can both be pretty opinionated. And neither of us ever wanted to admit when we were wrong.”

  “You sound like me and my brother,” I said. “Except that in our case, I’m always right and he’s always wrong.”

  The three of us laughed together.

  “So you get where I’m coming from,” said Candy. “Steve and I made a good team. Work-wise, we compensated for each other’s faults.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Steve was meticulous about facts and figures, so he was the one who did the books. I have no aptitude for math and zero desire to sit inside on a nice afternoon poring over stupid numbers. On the other hand, put Steve out in the real world and he was an organizational nightmare. He’d think nothing of scheduling Bailey to groom a Sheltie and a Miniature Poodle in the same time slot, and then he couldn’t figure out why she’d get pissed at him.

  “Plus, his idea of being on time was to roll in somewhere an hour late. That was the kind of thing that drove me crazy, but Steve always figured it didn’t matter what time he got started on something as long as he was willing to make up the time at the other end. That’s why I always opened the place in the mornings, while Steve closed things up at night.”

  “What else do I need to know?” I asked. “What kinds of things have the detectives been asking you?”

  “Their first thought was that Steve must have interrupted a robbery. Except that as far as I can tell, nothing was taken. The computers, Steve’s wallet, his DVD player, everything is still here. Even the petty cash drawer behind the counter wasn’t touched.”

  “What about the murder weapon?”

  Candy shook her head. “The police didn’t find a gun. And neither Steve nor I have ever owned one. So whoever killed my brother must have brought the weapon with him and then took it away again afterward.”

  About what I’d expected to hear. “Did Steve have any enemies?”

  “Not . . . in a manner of speaking.”

  “Which means what, exactly?”

  “You know.” Candy flipped the eraser over and over between her fingers. “Calling someone an enemy seems pretty harsh. Of course, Steve got along with some people better than he does with others. He was a normal guy. That’s the way life works.”

  “Sure,” I agreed easily. “Tell me about the other people, the ones Steve didn’t get along with.”

  Candy thought for a minute before continuing. “I guess I’d have to say that Adam Busch isn’t terribly happy with us at the moment.”

  “And he is?”

  “Our neighbor to the north.” She turned in her chair and gestured vaguely in the direction of the window. “He seems to think that we’re violating zoning laws by operating a business here.”

  “And are you?”

  “Of course not. All our paperwork and permits are perfectly correct and up to date. But unfortunately, Mr. Busch is resistant to change. Up until not very long ago, this whole area of Stamford was residential. But you know how it is, the city’s growing like a weed.”

  Alice and I both nodded. All of lower Fairfield County had changed enormously in the last twenty years, with Stamford leading the way when it came to development. Areas that had once been considered “country” now bordered towns that had expanded to meet them.

  “We bought this land three years ago from an elderly couple who wanted to retire to North Carolina. Zoning around here had already been changed to allow for a commercial business on the property, but development hadn’t yet begun to keep pace. When Mr. Busch found out we were planning to open a kennel ”—Candy rolled her eyes—“he came marching right over and told us he wouldn’t stand for it. As if it were up to him what we did on our own land.”

  “That was three years ago,” I said. “Relations haven’t improved since?”

  “If anything, they’ve gotten worse. Which seemed crazy to Steve and me because now we’re not the only business around here. The whole place has grown up, but since we were the first, it was like Busch blamed us for everyone that followed. He’s gone to the city and lodged complaints about everything he can think of—the noise, the activity level, even the smell . . .”

  Alice wrinkled her nose delicately. She sniffed several times, then shook her head.

  “I know,” said Candy. “I don’t smell anything either. And we’re right here in the middle of the place. He’s several acres away. Believe me, we’ve tried hard to appease the guy, but nothing seems to help.

  “To make things worse, Busch retired last year. So now he’s got that much more time to devote to harrassing us. Steve was a pretty easygoing guy, but he was reaching the end of his rope.”

  I nodded. “So he had at least one enemy. Who else?”

  “Well . . . maybe Lila Harrington.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “I guess you might call her a disgruntled client.” Candy glanced briefly at Alice. “Not that we have many of those.”

  “Of course not,” Alice said staunchly. She’d known Candy for less than a hour but she was already firmly on the woman’s side.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Lila has a female Shih Tzu named JoyJoy.”

  “Really?” I blinked. JoyJoy?

  “I kid you not. JoyJoy is the love of Lila’s life. She’s like a member of the woman’s family.”

  The name was awful, but I could well understand the sentiment.

  “It turns out that Lila never had little JoyJoy spayed. And never bothered to mention that fact to us either.”

  “Don’t you ask on the application?”

  Candy flushed. “We do now.”

  “Uh oh,” said Alice. She looked like she was trying not to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” Candy protested.

  “I’m sure Lila didn’t think so,” I said.

  “You’d be amazed how quickly two dogs can manage to get together under the circumstances. By the time we even figured out what was happening, Buster was on top of her and it was too late.”

  “Buster?” Now I was the one biting my lip and trying to keep
a straight face. “I’m assuming he wasn’t a Shih Tzu?”

  “He’s a Beagle . . . mix.”

  “A mutt?” Alice giggled. “JoyJoy hooked up with a mutt? The little hussy has no standards at all.”

  “Apparently not. Though the same can’t be said of Lila Harrington. She threatened to sue us.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “She said we were negligent in the performance of our duties. She had some lawyer convinced that JoyJoy was ruined for life. That once she’d mated with a mutt, she’d never be able to have purebred puppies.”

  “That’s an old wives’ tale,” I said. “And one that doesn’t even make sense. No one believes that anymore.”

  “Lila did. She was livid.”

  “What happened with the lawsuit?”

  “After the lawyer did a little more studying up on things, he dropped her. I guess he’d taken the case on contingency and decided it didn’t have a very good chance of success. Last I heard she was trying to interest someone else in representing her. And she’s still madder than a hornet.”

  “That’s two,” I said.

  Interesting that Candy had started this conversation by declaring that Steve was just a normal guy who pretty much got along with everybody, and yet in only a matter of moments, we’d managed to put that assertion to rest. I wondered what else she wasn’t telling me.

  “Anyone else?” I asked.

  “Um . . . possibly.”

  This is the point where I usually sit quietly, waiting for the other person to become uncomfortable and break the silence. It’s amazing what you can learn sometimes if you just don’t push too hard.

  I’d forgotten about Alice, however. She likes to talk entirely too much for a tactic like that to appeal to her. Alice has never met a silence she couldn’t fill.

  Now she leaned forward in her chair expectantly. “That sounds promising.”

  I reached my foot over and kicked her under the desk. Alice winced slightly and clammed up.

  “I’m open to possibilities,” I said to Candy.

  “It’s just that . . . Steve was my brother.”

  This time when she paused, neither Alice nor I said a word.

  “And I hate to say anything bad about him, especially now that he’s gone. But if you think it might help . . .”

  “I do.”

  Candy sighed. “You met Steve, right? So you know he was a pretty good-looking guy.”

  “Right.” I was pretty sure I could see where this was heading.

  “And maybe he liked to flirt a little. You know, just a little harmless playing around with the ladies.”

  “The lady clients,” I said, just to keep things clear.

  “Yes . . . and . . . well, let’s just say that some of them reciprocated. In fact, quite enthusiastically.”

  “So Steve was sleeping around,” said Alice.

  I was tempted to kick her again.

  “Just once or twice,” said Candy.

  “Were these woman married?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Some of them probably yes, others maybe no.”

  Some of them?

  “So now we’re moving beyond once or twice.”

  “I guess there could have been more.”

  “How many more?”

  Candy looked up. “Steve was my brother. It’s not like we talked about these things with one another. I’m just going by what I saw and what I guessed.”

  “So there’s a possibility that someone’s husband might have been angry at Steve?”

  Candy nodded reluctantly.

  “Maybe even more than one?”

  “It could have happened,” she admitted.

  “Did you tell these things to the police?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “How come?”

  “Because I’m trying to save my business here, all right? I’m already losing clients after what happened and I can’t think of a quicker way to alienate even more of them than by going public with things that should have been kept private.”

  Candy was fidgeting in her chair. She was on the defensive now. I liked that, it kept her talking.

  Her movement disturbed Winston, though. The Corgi lifted his head and listened for a moment. Then he jumped down and padded away. Candy, intent on what she was saying, didn’t even notice the dog’s departure.

  “Steve wasn’t perfect, okay? He screwed up, and now he’s gone. And I’m the one left trying to pick up the pieces. Right now, the best thing I can do for myself is save Pine Ridge and that’s my number one priority.”

  Abruptly, Candy stood up. She braced her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward.

  “So now you know everything. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “I’m in,” said Alice.

  Lord love a duck, that woman was quick on the draw. I supposed that meant she was volunteering me again.

  “Me too,” I said.

  11

  “You got me into this,” I said to Alice as we walked out. “So you’re going to help.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t know anything about solving mysteries. Besides, now that camp has started and Berkley’s squared away, I’ll be starting work on Monday.”

  “Tough luck.”

  I was feeling snarky, can you tell? Probably hormones again.

  “You’re not the only one who’s busy,” I said.

  Alice stopped and held the door. “Oh right. I remember now. You’re gardening.”

  She would bring that up.

  “Among other things.”

  “Name one.”

  “There’s Davey—”

  “Camp.”

  “And Sam—”

  “Working.”

  “The Poodles—”

  “Keep each other company.”

  “Kevin,” I said triumphantly.

  “Big deal.” Alice sniffed. “A baby. Millions of women have done it. Try having two in diapers at once. That’s work. Besides, like I said, I don’t know a single thing about clues, or suspects, or any of that stuff.”

  “You can learn. It’s not nearly as hard as it looks. Mostly it’s just a matter of paying attention to the little things other people miss. Take Madison, for example.”

  “Who?”

  “Madison, the receptionist.”

  I nodded toward the teenage girl, who was currently standing on the other side of the parking lot. A delivery van was parked there, side door open. A young, well-built delivery man wearing a tight T-shirt and equally tight jeans was unloading fifty-pound sacks of kibble and stacking them onto a handcart.

  The two of them were talking while the man worked. He appeared to be taking his time handling the bags, and Madison’s appreciative gaze followed every rippling move his muscles made.

  Alice glanced over at the scene, then frowned as she turned back to me. “How do you know her name?”

  “We’ve talked to her a couple of times. She was the one who called nine-one-one, remember?”

  “Yeah, I guess. She’s the office girl. So what?”

  “So what if she was a suspect?”

  Alice turned and had another look. This time with more interest.

  “Is she?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Who’s the guy?” asked Alice. “It looks from here like those two are into each other. Maybe that’s a clue.”

  “You see? Now you’re getting the hang of things. That’s how you figure stuff out.”

  “I guess I could do that,” said Alice. She opened the car door and climbed in. “If I had time.” The door slammed. “Which I don’t.”

  “And yet,” I said, getting in beside her, “you volunteered me.”

  “That’s entirely different. Face it, Melanie. Solving mysteries is what you do. Maybe you’ve taken some time off recently for other things—”

  “Like life?”

  “Yeah, that. But now Kevin is here, and you’re beginning to get back to normal. Which for you, apparently, is
chasing murderers. Plus, you’ve quit your job—”

  “I didn’t quit, I’m on sabbatical.”

  Alice sighed. Loudly. “Semantics, okay? Besides. . . here’s the deal. I really felt sorry for Candy. Who could help it? Now that Steve’s gone, she’s all alone. Someone has to step in and help her out.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” I said.

  We’d reached the end of the driveway. Alice pulled through the white gate, turned on her blinker, and headed for home.

  “What’s that?”

  “The first rule of investigating murders is follow the money.”

  “So?”

  “There may not have been any insurance, but Candy still inherited. Pine Ridge used to be half hers, now she owns the whole place.”

  “She has a motive,” said Alice. She sounded delighted by the discovery.

  “That’s right. So before you start feeling too sorry for her, don’t forget that she could be a murderer.”

  Aunt Peg was the one who came up with the plan.

  Which surprised exactly no one. Aunt Peg has a strategy for every situation, and usually several backup ideas too. If she only had more relatives to manipulate, she could probably rule the world.

  “You’ll go undercover,” she said the next afternoon as we were having lunch. Aunt Peg was holding Kevin on her lap with one hand and eating a ham and cheese sandwich with the other.

  Here’s the thing about having a new baby. Everyone stops by. Friends, relatives, people you once thought liked you for yourself, now turn out only to have eyes—and hands—for the baby. Since it had been three whole days since her last visit, Aunt Peg figured she was due again.

  As is often the case, her arrival coincided with a meal. True to form, she’d brought dessert with her: Sarah Bernhardts, a sumptuous dark chocolate and marzipan confection from a bakery in downtown Greenwich. My mouth started to water as soon as I saw the signature box.

  The first course that Sam and I came up with—homemade sandwiches on a choice of wheat or rye bread—looked pretty paltry by comparison. Thankfully, Aunt Peg was busy being entertained by Kevin and didn’t seem to notice. I could have handed her a strip of beef jerky and she’d have put it in her mouth without protest.