by Laura Scott
“I see.” It was strange, but not the worst thing she’d seen pet owners do.
Jerry Stevens paid cash for his visit and, when he left, Ally found herself wondering if she really had a grooming appointment scheduled for later that day.
Or if Gramps had gotten that mixed up too?
When her door opened again thirty minutes later, she expected another client, but her visitor was Noah.
Her heart gave a betraying flutter. She tried not to look happy to see him. “Hey.”
“You look better this morning.”
She lifted a brow. “Thanks, I think.” She tried not to remember how good he’d smelled Saturday night. “Did you get my message about the police report? My insurance company needs it for their records.”
“No, I’ve been out at the garage checking out your car.” His expression turned serious. “They found a very small dark red paint chip embedded in the rear bumper of your car.”
Red paint. She thought back to the loud muffler incident. “The red Chevy truck.”
“Actually, the mechanic is leaning toward a GMC truck because of the square lights.” His green gaze caught hers. “Could the red truck you and your grandfather saw the other day have been a GMC?”
“I—maybe.” She tried to remember. “But I honestly thought for sure the logo was Chevy. I know what that looks like, because my former fiancé had one.”
Noah nodded. “Just thought I’d ask. Could be the red truck you saw wasn’t the one that ran into you.”
The blood drained from her face. “You mean, there’s more than one murderer?”
“No, I just meant that some people put loud mufflers on their trucks on purpose. Even though they are considered illegal.” He shrugged. “The one you heard while driving your grandfather may not have anything to do with the case.”
The tension eased. “That’s true. I guess I never thought of that.”
“It’s just one possibility.” He glanced around. “Made your grandfather stay home?”
“Yes. Although I don’t have a car to pick him or any of the widows up anyway. I’ve walked over there plenty of times, but Gramps and the women can’t walk that far. He broke his hip back in April and hasn’t been the same since, at least physically.” She grinned. “His brain is sharp as ever.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Noah conceded. “But you know, I can help run errands for you if necessary.”
Her jaw dropped, and she wondered if she’d imagined his offer. “Um, well, thanks. Does that mean the car needs repairs?”
“There was some minor damage to the undercarriage that they’re repairing now. Shouldn’t be too bad, though.” His intense green gaze seemed to look deep into her soul. It was all she could do not to squirm under his scrutiny. “I don’t mind helping you out.”
She had no idea what to say. Was Noah simply being friendly? Or, like their brief embrace last night, the beginning of something more?
She didn’t want something more. Did she?
No. Been there, done that. Would have rather had the T-shirt.
“Thanks.” She needed desperately to get back on a professional footing. The case. They’d only met because of Marty’s murder. “Oh, I—um, should probably mention we spoke to both Kevin Kuhn and Rosie Malone, yesterday.” She frowned. “I mean, on Saturday.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Noah drawled, a flash of annoyance crossing his features. Oddly enough, she found it easier to deal with him when he was irritated with her. “Find out anything interesting?”
“Not really. Kevin Kuhn has a temper.” She recounted the brief conversation Gramps had initiated with the man, only to be cut off and yelled at while he pounded his fist on the counter.
Noah didn’t give anything away, simply nodding encouragingly. “And what about Rosie Malone?”
“She denied being one of Marty’s clients, the same way Anita Jones did. Oh, and she lied about talking to Marty.”
“Lied how?” Noah asked.
“Rosie specifically said she hadn’t spoken to Marty and claimed he never even so much as came to the library while she was there. But Gramps said he saw Marty there at the library, talking to Rosie the Wednesday before Marty’s murder. He thinks she’s lying to cover it up.”
Noah lifted a brow. “And what do you think?”
“I believe Gramps. The first time I saw Rosie and Gramps interact, she flirted with him. After he brought up Marty Shawlin, she couldn’t wait to get rid of us.”
Noah nodded thoughtfully, this time keeping his thoughts well hidden.
“Are we right about her lying?” Ally pressed. “I’m sure you’ve probably talked to all of Marty’s clients by now.”
“I can’t talk about the case with you, Ally. Is there anything else?” Noah asked.
“No, that’s all.” She frowned. “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me if any of Marty’s clients drives a red GMC truck?”
“Ally.” She took it as a good sign that his left eye wasn’t twitching. Maybe only Gramps caused that level of frustration. “When I arrest the person responsible for Marty’s murder, and the attack against you, I promise to let you know.”
Before she could ask any more questions, Noah turned to leave. At the door he hesitated and looked back at her.
“Call me anytime, Ally.”
The door closed behind him and she let out a breath, knowing that calling wouldn’t be a good idea.
Noah was nothing but trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Ally’s grooming appointment showed up just after lunch and also turned out to be a poodle. Only this wasn’t a little dog but a large standard poodle. His name was Domino, and he had bushy, curly black hair.
Ally fingered her own out-of-control dark curls, instantly feeling a kindship with the big guy.
“I’ll be here in two hours to pick him up, if that’s okay?” The harried owner was a woman roughly Ally’s own age by the name of Kayla Benton. “I have to drive the twins to swimming lessons, which takes an hour, then we’ll swing by to pick up Domino.”
Twins? Ally couldn’t imagine but smiled and took Domino’s leash. “Not a problem. Did you want me to do the typical poodle cut for him?”
“No need, just shave him down for the summer.” Kayla waved a hand. “Poor thing gets so hot out in the sun with all that thick black fur.” She handed Ally the leash, then bent over and scratched Domino behind the ears. “Behave, Domino, and I’ll see you soon.”
Kayla whirled and quickly left. Ally told herself that not having a husband and kids didn’t mean she was missing out. Even if Noah’s handsome face flashed in her mind. Didn’t she prefer furry companions to people anyway?
Yes, she did.
“Hey, Domino, let’s get you washed and clipped, shall we?” The dog was a good four inches taller than Roxy, and he wagged his tail, sniffing around the clinic with interest.
Good thing she’d left Roxy upstairs. Although a little socialization might be good for both of them.
“You want to meet Roxy? Do you?” She led Domino into the grooming station. “I bet Roxy would like to meet you, too.”
Domino was easygoing. He tolerated the clipping without a problem but balked at being washed. By the time she’d finished, she was just as wet as he was and needed to change her clothes.
At least Domino smelled great. And as she had with Clover, she tied a red, white, and blue bandana around his neck.
She placed Domino in a kennel while she went up to change and to get Roxy. The boxer instantly headed toward Domino’s crate.
“Behave,” she warned as she released Domino.
The two dogs sniffed each other for long moments before beginning to play, chasing each other around the clinic. It was cute, until they tipped over the desk chair behind the counter. Ally ran over in an attempt to grab it, before it hit the window.
Too late. The chair hit the window with a loud whack. She froze, a slight crack forming in the glass. She let out a sigh when the one-inch
crack didn’t get any larger, the rest of the window remaining intact.
The relief was short-lived as the dogs continued to go at each other, barking, jumping, spinning, and nipping. Roxy latched onto the Fourth of July bandana and wouldn’t let go, backing up in an attempt to take Domino down.
“Roxy! No! Stop!”
Roxy was having too much fun to listen. Domino growled and struggled to get away. The bandana ripped in half, sending Roxy flying backward.
Ally lunged for Roxy’s collar. “Roxy, no!”
Domino ran in a circle, then came back for more. Ally moved to put herself between the dogs, dragging Roxy toward the kennel.
Domino jumped up and placed his paws on her back. She shrugged him off, managed to thrust Roxy into the crate, then grabbed the poodle’s collar.
“I guess socialization was a bad idea,” she muttered, taking Domino back to the grooming room. After giving him yet another wash, getting just as drenched as the first time, she replaced the bandana, then stepped back, placing placed her hands on her hips.
“Okay, here’s the deal. We’re not telling your mommy about this, understand?”
Domino lolled his tongue out, turning his head toward the direction of Roxy’s crate.
“No way. Not happening.” She eyed the poodle sternly. Taking him by the leash, she went back to the desk and pulled up her client list. Domino wasn’t due for his shots for another two months, so she added his name along with Kayla Benton’s to her reminder list.
Having two clients in one day was far better than nothing.
By the time Kayla arrived with the twin girls to pick up Domino, Ally had the clinic spotless. The only sign of the doggy disaster was the small crack in the window.
“Thanks, Dr. Winter,” Kayla said, taking Domino’s leash. The twin girls both smothered Domino in hugs, but the poodle continued to look back in the direction of Roxy’s kennel. “Bridgit, don’t strangle Domino with his scarf. Brooke, don’t try to chew on it, either.”
“See you in a few months for his vaccinations,” Ally said with a smile.
“Sounds good. Come on, Bridgit, Brooke. Let’s go.”
Ally waited until the trio and the dog were safe in the car before she freed Roxy from her crate. Roxy instantly dashed around the clinic, picking up Domino’s scent, despite Ally having cleaned the place, and trotting along to find him.
“You were naughty,” she scolded. “If you want friends to come over, you need to learn to play nice.”
Roxy’s stubby tail waved back and forth, the boxer clearly not understanding what Ally’s problem was.
Her phone rang and she tripped over Roxy while making a grab for it. “Furry Friends Veterinary Clinic, this is Dr. Winter, may I help you?”
“Ally? It’s Noah. Just wanted to let you know the police report on your car is finished.”
“That’s great news, thanks. I’ll be there in a few minutes to get it.”
“The report will be at the front desk,” Noah said.
She shouldn’t have been disappointed he wouldn’t be there to personally hand it over. “Perfect, thanks again.” Disconnecting from the call, she looked at Roxy. “You don’t deserve a reward, but you’ll get one anyway. Ready to go for a W-A-L-K?”
The police station wasn’t far. It was located within the municipal building that also housed the library and the Willow Bluff City Hall.
“So Roxy, what do you think of Gramps’ list of suspects?” She paused as the dog took a moment to sniff the base of a tree. “I wonder if Noah has found out whether or not the Whites or Kevin Kuhn own a GMC truck.”
Roxy moved on from that tree to the next.
“I know the killer could be a woman, but I’m having trouble picturing Ginny White, Rosie Malone, or Anita Jones ramming my car into the ditch. Throwing a rock at the clinic? Sure, but rear-ending me on purpose?” She shook her head. “Can’t visualize that one.”
Roxy glanced up at her for a moment, then headed for the next tree. It occurred to Ally that Domino might have marked them all with his scent.
Thank goodness both animals were neutered. Although boxer and standard poodle pups would be adorable.
“And what about that other couple Anita mentioned. What was their name?” She had to think back to the evening she and Gramps had visited her. “The Ryersons. I never did find their names in the clinic’s client list.”
Not her problem, but she found herself wondering about them anyway. They must live and work somewhere within Willow Bluff.
If she asked Noah, would he tell her anything about them? Doubtful. And she was staying out of the investigation, to protect herself and her grandfather.
The Lakefront Café was hopping with business, all the outside tables full of patrons. Ally kept Roxy close and gave the café a wide berth as they made their way to the police station.
Two squads were parked outside the police station entrance. She wondered how many officers were on duty at any given time. If two squads were here, she hoped there were at least several others driving around the town, keeping an eye out for criminals.
Like the one who had run her off the road.
Ally tightened her grip on Roxy’s leash and headed inside.
A woman wearing a police uniform sat behind the front desk, her name tag identifying her as Barbara Sommers. Behind her was a glass wall, through which Ally could see several cubicles. Two officers were seated next to each other, talking. The ones who should be out in the squads, she assumed.
Roxy began to growl, low in her throat. Ally frowned at her. “Behave.”
“Dogs aren’t allowed in here,” Sommers said with a frown.
“I’m just here to pick up the police report Detective Jorgensen left for me.”
“Take it and go, no dogs allowed.” Sommers was like a broken record, and while Ally could understand the rule, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have control of Roxy’s leash.
Previous encounter with Domino aside.
“Thanks.” Roxy’s growls deepened, and the glass wall must not have been soundproofed because one of the cops turned to stare at her.
Officer Roberts.
The flash of anger in his eyes had her taking a step back. Holding the police report in one hand, she tugged on the dog’s leash with the other. “Come on, Roxy. Time to go.”
Roxy’s growls continued until they were once again outside the building.
Ally stared down at Roxy, who’d finally stopped growling. “What was that about? Something you don’t like about Officer Roberts? Or maybe cops in general?”
Although Roxy hadn’t growled at Noah, other than that first day. Maybe Roxy didn’t like or was afraid of men. Except for Noah, Marty, and Gramps … nah, that theory didn’t work either.
The crowd at the Lakeview Café had thinned a bit and the scent of food made her mouth water. She’d skipped lunch and only had ramen noodles in her cupboard for dinner.
She should have kept Harriet’s lunch leftovers, rather than insisting on taking them back. Although after the lasagna dinner and homemade garlic bread, she’d decided to cut back on the carbs, so she could once again button her jeans.
The Lakeview Café had plenty of delicious salads, so she turned in that direction. Roxy sniffed at several of the patrons as they went up to the hostess stand, without growling at any of the men.
Interesting. Ally was tempted to call Noah to let him know about her theory of Officer Roberts possibly being the source of Roxy’s growling, but managed to refrain.
She had no proof of Roberts being involved in anything nefarious. And why would a cop like Roberts have it in for Marty Shawlin?
Unless Roberts had been one of Marty’s clients too?
But that didn’t really make sense, either. Cops had good pensions, and Roberts looked to be in his forties, likely close enough to retire with full benefits. Why would he bother to meet with Marty about a will and a trust?
“Is this okay?” The hostess had shown Ally to a table way off to the side
, some distance from the others. Because of Roxy? Maybe.
“Fine, thanks.” Ally truly didn’t mind being separated off to the side, as the seat gave her a perfect view of the entire patio seating area.
Roxy stretched out at her feet, seemingly content to hang out. Ally ordered a cobb salad and lemonade and wished her grandfather were there with her.
“He’d be interested to know that you growl at Officer Roberts,” she confided to Roxy. Then she frowned as another thought struck her. “Maybe it’s the uniform itself, not the cop wearing it. As a detective, Noah doesn’t wear a uniform.”
Roxy rested her head on the ground between her paws.
“You’re not helping,” Ally complained. She took her time eating her salad, thinking about the case.
And her car.
As much as she missed Gramps, she didn’t want him anywhere near the crosshairs of danger, where she’d somehow ended up.
Lost in her thoughts, it took a minute for her to clue into the conversation drifting over from the table closest to her.
“The food at Gino’s is much better than this stuff,” a woman said with derision. “Helen’s a great cook, not sure why they don’t have her name on the door instead of her husband’s.”
“Gino’s sounds better than Helen’s,” the other woman pointed out.
“They could have gone with Ryerson Family Restaurant.”
Ryerson? Ally took a bite of her salad and glanced over to see who was talking. Two women she didn’t know were seated at the table. Wait a minute, she straightened in her seat. She did know one of them, the pink suit of the real estate agent, the one with the beautiful straight blond hair. Amanda’s mother. What was her name? Oh yes, Ellen Cartwright.
She’d seen a sign advertising Gino’s Family Style Restaurant but it had never occurred to her that the owners of the restaurant were the Ryersons, who also happened to be potential clients of Marty.
“Hmm, sounds like it’s time for me and Gramps to head out to Gino’s for dinner, Roxy. Maybe even tomorrow night, if I have my car back by then. What do you think about that?”
Roxy perked her ears forward.