by Laura Scott
“Especially not after the way she’s treated you,” Ally added. “You deserve better, Roxy.”
Roxy wiggled her stubby tail in agreement.
She took Roxy around to the back of the building to drop the bag in the garbage, then went inside through the back to wash up.
Gramps was on the phone when she entered the main reception area of the clinic. He waved her over. “Dr. Winter just walked in.” He held up the phone. “It’s for you.”
Yeah, I gathered that much. Ally took the phone, sighing when she heard the familiar panicked voice of Wendy Granger.
“I think the puppies are coming early!”
“Okay, try to remain calm. What makes you think that? What symptoms is Patsy displaying?”
“She’s just lying around not doing anything, which is not like her. I’m telling you, those Great Dane puppies are going to be too much for her to handle!”
They were clearly too much for Wendy Granger to handle. “I understand your concern, but pregnant dogs get tired out easily, just like pregnant women do. Patsy resting more than usual is very normal.”
“But—how will I know when the puppies are coming?” Wendy wailed.
Didn’t they just have this conversation? “You have a couple of weeks yet, so try not to worry. And Patsy will likely make a soft bed someplace to have her pups. Maybe you could make one for her now, so she feels comfortable when the time comes.” And would give the woman something constructive to do.
“Are you sure she’s not about to give birth?”
“As sure as I can be without seeing her.” Ally rubbed her temple. “Please know that dogs give birth without our help all the time. And we’ll know more after next week’s ultrasound.”
“Okay, thanks.” Wendy didn’t sound reassured.
Ally dropped the phone back in the cradle. “This is why it’s important to get your pets neutered.”
Gramps glanced at Roxy. “Do you know for sure Roxy is?”
“Yes.” It was one of the first things she’d checked amidst Hanson’s notes. “And her shots were up to date. After talking to Sheila, I’m sure Marty was the one who took care of Roxy.”
“Which is why you need an agreement,” Gramps insisted.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands. Why did she bother trying to fight with him? She pulled the computer keyboard over and pulled up a Word document. She wasn’t a lawyer, and Marty wasn’t there to ask for assistance, so she did her best to draft the agreement. When she was finished, she picked up the phone and dialed Sheila’s number.
To her surprise the woman answered. “Yes?”
“I’d like you and the new man in your life to sign off on an agreement that states you’re formally granting me custody of Roxy,” Ally said bluntly. “I’ll email it, have you both sign it, then scan it back to me.”
“But—I don’t have a scanner.” Ally noticed she didn’t balk at signing the agreement. “Hang on a sec. Nick? Can you access a computer scanner at the precinct?”
Precinct?
“Okay, fine,” Sheila said. “Nick can scan it and send it back to you from the police station.”
“Nick is a cop?”
“Yes. He works second shift and we live in a small apartment, which is why we can’t have a dog. Send me your agreement and I’ll return it as soon as possible.”
“I’ll need your email address.” Ally wrote it down, then said, “Should show up in a few minutes.”
After she disconnected from the phone, she sent the agreement via email, then glanced at Gramps. “You heard?”
“That he’s a cop and they live in a small apartment? Yep.” Gramps looked down at Roxy. “You know what I think? Living in that small apartment makes the idea of killing Marty to get the house a motive for murder. Housing is very expensive in the big city, so it makes sense that they’d want something more. And maybe Roxy doesn’t like police uniforms.”
“You might be right about that.” She frowned at Roxy. “We should tell Noah about this.” The thought wasn’t a cheery one.
“Let’s wait until we get the agreement back.” Gramps rubbed his hands together with glee. “That way we’ll have everything your detective needs to look into this guy’s alibi. If he has one.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sheila returned the agreement within an hour, and they had Nick Calderone’s full name and address. Gramps was thrilled to have another possible suspect, but Ally hesitated, not at all convinced she should present this new information to Noah.
Roxy growling at cop uniforms was one thing, but if Nick had murdered Marty, why would he wear a uniform to do it? As a way to throw off suspicion? Would a Chicago police uniform even look the same as the Willow Bluff police uniform? Maybe, but the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that Nick Calderone was involved.
One phone call from Noah to check his alibi could clear the guy. But she felt certain Noah wouldn’t appreciate Gramps’ latest theory.
“Ready?” Gramps asked, leaning on his cane near the door.
She blew out a breath. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” With reluctance, she led Roxy toward Gramps. “All we’re going to get is another lecture.”
“Who cares? The important thing is to crack the case. It’s already been over a week. Your detective is falling behind if he wants to solve this.”
Ally opened the door for Gramps, then locked it behind them. She prayed for a veterinary emergency call the entire walk down Main Street.
No such luck.
As they approached the police station, Ally could see two men standing outside talking. One was in uniform, the other was in dress slacks and a collared shirt. Even from here, she recognized Noah.
On cue, Roxy began to growl.
Ally quickened her pace, hurrying over to where Noah and Officer Roberts were talking. “See?” She gestured to Roxy, who bared her teeth and growled at Roberts. “I told you Roxy doesn’t like him.”
To his credit, Noah didn’t raise his voice. “Ally, I need you to take Roxy and your grandfather away from here. Roberts? Let’s go inside to talk.”
“I can’t believe you think I’m guilty of murdering someone!” Roberts said, taking a step back from Roxy. “It’s not my fault the dog doesn’t like me.”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything,” Noah pointed out, shooting Ally a dark look. She knew he wanted her gone, but she wasn’t moving. “All I want to do is talk to you, inside.”
In other words, discuss the crime away from curious ears, like hers and Gramps’.
Gramps huffed a bit as he came up beside her. He glared at Roberts. “Roxy doesn’t like you because you murdered Marty. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“I didn’t!” Roberts insisted, taking another step back from the dog. “Okay, maybe I did go see Marty the morning he died, to warn him away from my mom, but I’m telling you he was alive when I left!”
Noah appeared surprised by his confession. “Listen, Roberts, you don’t have to say all this. Remember, you have the right to remain silent, a right to an attorney …”
“I didn’t kill him,” Roberts repeated empathically. “In fact, he was practically on his way out the door when I stopped by. Told me he had a meeting in town.” Roberts sent another wary glance at the dog. “We stood in the kitchen while that dog was in the crate. All that thing did was bark and growl the whole time. So yeah, maybe I yelled at Marty, told him to stay away from elderly ladies like my mom, but I didn’t kill him!”
Reading people wasn’t Ally’s strong suit—wasn’t Tim proof of that? However, her gut sensed Roberts was telling the truth.
“I haven’t accused you of anything,” Noah repeated. “All I asked was to talk to you, inside, about whether your mom was Marty’s client.” The tick at the corner of his left eye was back and she felt a little guilty for the way she, Roxy, and Gramps had disrupted his discussion with Roberts. “Come on, Roberts, you know the law as well as I do. You shouldn’t be talking to me with civilians pre
sent and without a lawyer.”
Roberts pointed at Roxy. “I want you to know that I’m innocent, and I have no idea why that dog hates me.”
“I understand,” Noah said in a soothing voice. “I’ll need to talk to your mother, though, to hear her side of the interaction she had with Marty Shawlin.”
“Go ahead,” Roberts muttered. “I have nothing to hide.”
Noah sighed and waved him off. “Get back to work, we’ll talk more later.”
Roberts slithered away, giving Roxy a wide berth. When Noah turned to face her, Ally could see the frustration etched on his features. “I’m this close,” he said holding up his thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart, “to tossing you and your grandfather behind bars.”
“We’re just trying to help,” Ally protested weakly. “It’s not my fault Roberts is afraid of Roxy. Or that Roxy doesn’t like him.”
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to rein in his temper.
“And it’s also not our fault that Roberts ignored your attempt to talk to him inside,” Gramps added. “But look on the bright side, we learned he visited Marty the day of his murder. That’s a break in the case, isn’t it?”
Noah opened his mouth, then closed it again. Without a word, he spun on his heel and walked away.
Ally put a hand on Gramps’ arm to prevent him from following. “No need to bring up Sheila’s cop boyfriend now. Seems as if Roxy was growling at Roberts specifically.”
“You never know,” Gramps protested. “Could be that Marty’s meeting in town was with Nick Calderone. That detective of yours should make the effort to cross him off the suspect list, just in case he did show up here in Willow Bluff.”
“I’m not going to push Noah any more today.” Ally reached down to pet Roxy, who’d stopped growling as soon as Roberts left the area. “Let’s head back to the clinic. It’s almost time for me to drive you back to the Legacy House.”
“Bah.” Gramps didn’t look happy. “We were on a roll today, Ally. We learned the dark red GMC truck that ran you off the road was likely stolen, that Marty’s ex is dating a cop and might still be a beneficiary to his estate, and that Officer Roberts met with Marty the day he died. If we keep going, we have a good chance of solving the crime.”
Or messing the case up worse than they already had, Ally thought wearily. “More than enough action for one day, Gramps.”
When they arrived at the clinic Ally’s phone rang. “Hello, this is Dr. Winter, may I help you?”
“Smoky ate a dishtowel this time!” Ally easily remembered Rachel Turks and her black Lab named Smoky. “Dad’s gonna kill me!”
“Can one of your parents come with you and Smoky to the clinic?” Ally asked. “We need to get that dishtowel out right away, or he’ll need surgery.”
“My dad is home, but he’s gonna kill me,” Rachel repeated tearfully.
“The sooner you get Smoky here the better.” Ally unlocked the clinic door, holding it for Gramps.
“Okay, we’ll come right away.” Rachel disconnected the call.
Ally shook her head, wondering how Smoky had gotten a chance to eat the dishtowel. Had it been on the floor in Rachel’s room? For the girl’s sake, she sincerely hoped not.
“Will you be okay here for a while longer, Gramps?” Ally asked, getting him settled behind the desk. “This may take a while.”
“Of course I’ll be okay.” He looked relieved to be sitting in the chair. “I was in ’Nam, I’m not made of fluff.”
Ally quickly took Roxy upstairs to her apartment, knowing she’d need to concentrate on Smoky. She’d never had a dog come in after eating an entire dishtowel. An entire pumpkin pie? Yes. Socks, yes.
But a dishtowel was large enough to require surgery. And if that was the case, Rachel was right to fear her father’s wrath.
Richard Turks hadn’t been happy paying the previous bill, and surgery would be far more expensive.
Even though her bank account could use the boost, Ally sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need to perform a surgical procedure on Smoky.
The poor Lab didn’t deserve it.
She prepared the apomorphine so the medication would be ready to go. When Rachel, her father, and Smoky arrived, the young girl’s eyes were red from crying. Thankfully, Richard Turks didn’t look too upset.
“Let’s get Smoky into the first exam room, okay?” Ally led the way inside. “Rachel, can you tell me what happened? Are you absolutely sure Smoky ate a dishtowel?”
“I’m sure, because I—I left it hanging over the edge of the counter and saw Smoky grab it.” She sent her father a guilty look. “I kept telling him to drop it, but he wouldn’t listen. And when I chased him, he ducked into the bedroom and began chewing it up.”
Ally was encouraged by this news. “So he didn’t eat the entire towel?”
“Most of it.” Richard Turks held up what was left of the dishtowel. More than half of it was missing. “He’s not going to need surgery, is he?”
To his credit, he looked more worried about the dog than his wallet.
“I hope not. I’m going to take Smoky in the back and use the same medication as last time. Hopefully it will work.”
“Thanks, Dr. Winter,” Rachel said, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes.
“Why don’t you both have a seat in the lobby?” Ally took Smoky’s leash from Rachel’s fingers. “We’ll be back soon.”
Ally lifted Smoky into the washtub and tied him in place. “Sorry, buddy, but this will be the same drill as last time.” She held him tightly and injected the apomorphine.
As before, it didn’t take long for Smoky to begin to retch. At first, nothing came out of his stomach, which was worrisome. If the towel had already gotten into his small bowel, she’d have no choice but to operate.
But then a few small pieces came up, then a larger one. Along with yet another sock. Ally shook her head and stroked Smoky’s fur. “Hang in there, buddy. You’re doing great getting that nasty stuff out of there.”
The rest of the shredded dishtowel came out in a clump. Since it appeared most of the towel had been expelled, she decided against surgery.
She gave him a quick bath, then injected a small bolus of saline into the scruff of Smoky’s neck, since the poor animal seemed dehydrated. When he’d recovered, she lifted him out of the tub and set him on his feet.
Smoky’s tail thumped weakly against her leg as he gazed up at her with eyes that asked why she was torturing him like this. Her heart went out to him.
“I’m sorry, big guy. I’ll give Rachel another lecture about keeping clothing off the floor and out of your reach so maybe you won’t need to come back on a weekly basis.”
Smoky gazed up at her, seemingly on board with that plan.
Ally led Smoky out to the reception area. Rachel jumped up from her seat. “He’s okay?”
“He’s fine,” Ally assured the girl. She glanced at her father, then back to Rachel. “The rest of the towel came out, but so did a sock. You really have to keep all clothing items off the floor and out of his reach, Rachel. Smoky is a puppy, he’s depending on you to watch over him.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Rachel knelt on the floor beside Smoky, hugging him close. He licked her cheek in forgiveness. “Thanks for saving him from surgery.”
“You’re welcome.” Ally couldn’t help smiling at them. Whatever Rachel’s faults, she clearly loved the black Lab.
“Yes, thank you,” Richard Turks added. “I’m hoping this is our last trip here for a while.”
“Understandable.” Ally went around the desk to the computer. She pulled up the invoice she’d issued last time and made a duplicate copy.
Richard Turks handed over his credit card without complaint. The dishtowel incident had been a close call, and he knew it.
“Take care of Smoky,” Ally said as she handed Richard the receipt.
“We will.” He sent his daughter a stern look. “We’re going to head over to the store to buy a very lar
ge clothes hamper, right, Rachel?”
“Right,” the girl agreed.
“I appreciate you using less invasive techniques before going straight to surgery,” Richard Turks said. “Willow Bluff is lucky to have you, Dr. Winter.”
Ally blushed. It was the nicest thing any of her clients had said to her since she’d taken over the business. “Thank you, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Richard and Rachel Turks left with Smoky. When the door closed behind them, Gramps squeezed her hand. “See? I knew the people in Willow Bluff would come around.”
“Yeah, guess you were right about that.” Ally had to admit this was a great way to end the day. “Let me get Roxy and I’ll take you home.”
This time, Gramps didn’t protest. He looked tired, and it was well past five thirty. Harriet was likely ready to pitch a fit over how late they were.
Getting to the Legacy House didn’t take long. Ally helped Gramps out and left Roxy in the Honda as she walked him up to the door.
“Oscar!” Harriet must have been watching and waiting for them to get there. “We were getting worried about you!” She frowned at Ally. “You should have called.”
“My fault, I had an emergency case come in at the last minute.” Ally stepped back as her grandfather made his way inside. “See you later, Gramps.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” Harriet’s frown deepened. “I already set a spot for you at the table.”
Ally wavered for a split second before she caved. “Just let me get Roxy.”
Harriet pressed her lips together in disapproval but didn’t complain.
“Roxy belongs to Ally, now. Marty’s ex-wife gave the dog up.”
“Really?” Harriet looked dismayed by the news. “How … unfortunate.”
“Not for Roxy,” Gramps said, the twinkle in his eye betraying how much he enjoyed needling the widow. “Ally is a much better dog owner than Marty’s ex by a mile.”
“Thanks again, Harriet.” Ally tried to smooth things over. “Something smells great!”
“Beef stroganoff,” Harriet announced.
Ally thought it was a wonder Harriet’s arteries hadn’t clogged up from all the rich food she cooked, but hey, who was she to complain? Harriet’s meals tasted delicious, no reason to refuse them now that all the widows seemed to be involved in her life. She nudged Roxy under the table, telling her to lie down, as Harriet filled their plates.