Dogged by Death

by Laura Scott

  “What time are you picking me up tomorrow, Ally?” Lydia asked.

  Gramps scowled, and for a moment Ally thought he might insist on coming instead, but he didn’t.

  “Nine o’clock, if that’s not too early,” Ally said.

  “I’ll be ready.” Lydia beamed with excitement.

  After dinner, and somehow finding the willpower to refuse Harriet’s cherry pie, Ally insisted on heading home. She took Roxy outside and into the Honda.

  She’d only gone a block when she caught a glimpse of a green sedan.

  But it didn’t sound loud, like the muffler was bad. Because it had been repaired? Or because the owner was innocent?

  Ally wrenched the steering wheel to the left, making a last-minute decision to find the car. It wouldn’t hurt to catch a glimpse of the driver.

  The green Ford disappeared around another corner, but she could still hear the engine.

  Then it abruptly stopped.

  No! Ally ground her teeth together and slowed her speed, searching for where the green sedan might have gone. Was it already inside a garage?

  She searched frantically for any sign of a garage door still coming down.

  There! Not a garage door, but a green Ford sedan sitting in the driveway of a yellow house.

  Ally drove slowly past in an attempt to glimpse the driver but didn’t see anyone. She drove around the block, and then parked her Honda on the road two doors down from where the green Ford was parked.

  Now what? It was tempting to call Noah, but she quickly decided against it. Sliding out from behind the wheel, she opened the back door and let Roxy out.

  “Let’s take a short walk, Roxy.”

  The W-word had Roxy jumping around with excitement. Ally walked with Roxy toward the green Ford, and the dog abruptly began to growl.

  Yes! She was onto something! Roxy growled and tugged against the leash in an attempt to get closer to the car.

  “What is it, girl? Do you know the owner?” Ally risked taking a few steps up the driveway so Roxy could get a better whiff of the scents around the car.

  If the owner called the cops, she felt confident Noah would toss her in jail for trespassing.

  Roxy continued to growl low in her throat until Ally decided there was no point in continuing the test. Roxy had made it clear she didn’t like the owner of the green Ford.

  Not that she understood what that meant for the case. Unless the driver of the green Ford was some sort of accomplice? Nah, she was letting her imagination run wild, just like Gramps.

  “Come, Roxy,” she said, pulling the dog from the house. Then she glanced back over her shoulder to make note of the house number. Wouldn’t hurt to find out who the owner was, just to satisfy her curiosity.

  Twenty-one-zero-three. Ally repeated it to herself as she half dragged Roxy back to the Honda.

  Once she was behind the wheel, she pulled out her phone and wrote herself a note about the address and the license plate number for the Ford. When that was finished, she dialed Noah’s personal number. With an actual address and license plate, he could run a trace on the owner.

  “Not a good time, Ally,” Noah said abruptly.

  “But it’s important,” she started, only to realize she was talking to dead air.

  He’d hung up on her! Fuming, she punched his number again, only this time he didn’t answer at all.

  She tossed her phone into the passenger seat. Great. The first solid clue she had, and he was too mad to hear it.

  Noah was treating her like the little boy who’d cried wolf.

  And deep down, she knew she had only herself to blame.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Back at the clinic, Ally pored through Hanson’s client list, searching for an address that matched the house with the green Ford parked in the driveway. She searched by house number and street name, without luck.

  She tried a basic internet search, but couldn’t find a name associated with the property. Instead, she was directed to a site requiring a fee before releasing the information. She frowned. Was it worth it? Maybe, but not now. Bleary-eyed from staring at the monitor, she pushed away from it, shut the machine down, and took Roxy outside one last time before heading up to the apartment. She’d been taking care of Roxy for so long, it was difficult to remember what her life in Willow Bluff had been like without the boxer.

  “Feeling guilty I don’t have a nice yard for you to run around in,” she said, scratching Roxy behind the ears. “But at least you’re not in a crate all day, right?”

  Roxy rested her chin on Ally’s thigh as if content.

  When she finished brushing her teeth, her cell phone rang. Noah? But no, it was the number from the Legacy House.

  “Hello?”

  “Ally? It’s Lydia. I’m afraid I’ve twisted my ankle.” The widow sounded as if she might cry. “I won’t be able to come to the clinic. And Tillie’s daughter is coming up to take her to lunch, so she won’t be available either.”

  “Oh Lydia, it’s okay, truly. I’m sorry to hear about your ankle, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Oscar said to tell you he’s willing to come in. Here, he wants to talk to you.”

  “Ally?” Gramps was speaking in a normal voice, likely because he was using the Legacy House landline. “I told Lydia not to call you this late, but she insisted. I’ll be ready to go by nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you sure it won’t be too much for you?” Ally suspected that Gramps wanted to come in solely to interact with potential suspects. “You can come on Friday, instead.”

  “I’m sure, I’d like to help out tomorrow.” He said something to Lydia, then continued, “See you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, Gramps.” Ally disconnected the phone and connected it to her charger. Then she patted the bed, inviting Roxy to jump up.

  The dog stretched out beside her, and Ally smiled in the darkness.

  Then her smile faded. Noah wasn’t speaking to her anymore? Fine. She’d figure out who owned the house on twenty-one-zero-three Terrace Lane on her own.

  And if that house was owned by one of their suspects, then Noah would have to listen to her.

  * * *

  Ally brought Roxy along as she headed to the Legacy House to pick up Gramps the next morning. Her first grooming appointment wasn’t until ten thirty, so there was plenty of time to stop and watch the house.

  She filled Gramps in on Roxy’s behavior outside the green Ford sedan. After taking a slight detour down Terrace Lane, she gestured to the house. “That’s the one.”

  Gramps leaned forward to peer out the window. “But the Ford isn’t in the driveway, so that means the owner has already left for the day.”

  “I know.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “But there’s a garage, too. Could be two people live there, and one of them is still home.”

  “Hrmph,” Gramps grunted.

  Ally drove past the place, turned around, then parked on the opposite side of the road where they would have a good view of anyone coming out. “Can you think of anyone you know that owns a green Ford?”

  Gramps shook his head. “Trust me, I’ve been trying to remember. Most of the time, people walk around town, so I don’t often see their vehicles.” He grinned. “Except when Marty showed up at the Legacy House.”

  Ally draped her wrist over the top of the steering wheel. “We can sit here for a little while, but I can’t be late for my grooming appointment at ten thirty.” It was interesting that her appointments were split about fifty/fifty between grooming and veterinary services.

  Thank goodness she’d learned how to groom animals during summer breaks while attending college.

  After sitting there for fifteen minutes, Gramps grew antsy. “The Ford isn’t there, I say we drive around town to look for it.”

  “You think we’re going to stumble across it the same way we found Marty’s car?” Ally asked.

  “Why not?”

  She couldn’t argue his logic. They headed i
nto town, and slowly drove through the large parking lot outside the municipal building.

  “What if Officer Roberts owns the car?” She frowned at Gramps. “We already know his side of the story, about his concern over his mother.”

  “Yeah,” Gramps agreed.

  “I tend to believe him.” It occurred to her that Roberts owning the car would explain Roxy’s dislike of the scent around the vehicle. And if that was the case, the green Ford wasn’t a clue to the crime after all.

  She’d gone up and down several aisles before Gramps shouted, “Stop!”

  She slammed on the brakes and peered through the steering wheel. “Where?”

  “You went past it. Back up about six feet.”

  She did and saw a green Ford. “Hang on, I wrote down the license plate number.” She thumbed through her phone, then held it up toward Gramps. “It’s the same car.”

  “Okay, then.” Gramps nodded thoughtfully. “So the owner of the car either works somewhere in the municipal building or is here visiting.”

  “I’m leaning toward the former,” Ally noted. “It’s fairly early to be visiting the library, City Hall, or the police station. It really might belong to Roberts.”

  “Maybe. Or it could belong to someone else. The library opens at eight AM in the summer, and parents bring their kids to the library all the time.”

  Taking her foot off the brake, she let the Honda roll forward. “This is a dead end, Gramps. We need to get to the clinic.”

  “I know.” But Gramps twisted in his seat, watching the car as she drove out of the parking lot and down Main Street. “I wish I knew who owned the car, though.”

  I wish for a lot of things, she thought with a sigh.

  Gramps didn’t argue as she pulled up in front of the clinic and helped him from the car.

  She’d barely unlocked the clinic and helped Gramps get settled behind the counter, when the door opened.

  A familiar young girl stood there, cradling yet another wild animal against her chest. Roxy lifted her head, clearly catching the animal’s scent.

  Great. Ally suppressed a sigh. “Hi, Amanda, what did you bring in today?”

  “I found a baby bunny,” Amanda looked as if she might cry. “She’s bleeding, you have to help her.”

  At least it wasn’t a bird. Still, this craziness had to stop. “Amanda, honey, you can’t keep bringing wild animals in for me to fix.”

  “But—she’ll die.”

  No matter how much she wanted to, Ally couldn’t resist the girl’s big pleading eyes. A glance at her watch confirmed she had roughly thirty minutes before her grooming appointment arrived. “Fine. Roxy? Sit. Stay.” When Roxy obeyed, she gestured to Amanda. “Bring the bunny into exam room number one.”

  Amanda Cartwright nodded and carefully crossed the clinic to the exam room. Ally followed, hoping the animal wasn’t hurt too badly but fearing the worst. Only the strong survive in the wild, and in her experience the baby bunny had been attacked by either a dog or a coyote. And there was always the possibility of wild animals having rabies.

  Wouldn’t Ellen Cartwright have a fit about that?

  For Amanda’s sake, she hoped the bunny wasn’t diseased or too far gone to be helped. Ally dutifully donned protective gear, then gently took the baby bunny from the girl’s arms.

  It was bleeding from teeth marks and sat motionless in the palm of her hands with its eyes closed. Rabbits sometimes remained motionless in a play-dead attempt to avoid predators, but Ally didn’t think that was the case. She felt for a heartbeat but found nothing.

  Amanda was gazing down at the rabbit with a rapt expression on her face. Ally could tell the girl wanted to make a pet out of the baby bunny.

  Not happening. Even if the animal was alive, it wasn’t a good idea to make pets out of wild animals.

  “Looks like she has several cuts I’ll need to clean up.” Ally held the dead baby bunny against her abdomen. “I’ll take care of her in the back and will probably have to keep the bunny here for a few days, okay?”

  “Okay,” Amanda agreed.

  Ally didn’t like lying to the child, but she couldn’t bear to tell the little girl the rabbit was dead. The phrase frightened to death came from situations just like this. Baby animals in particular could get so scared they died.

  Teeth marks hadn’t helped. She figured the dog had carried it for a while before dropping it.

  A coyote would have eaten it.

  Best Amanda not know about that possibility.

  She carried the baby bunny into the back and found an empty supply box to put it in. Maybe Amanda would forget about it, but if not, she’d explain the poor thing had died and she’d given it a proper burial.

  “Will you call me when the baby bunny is all better?” Amanda asked when she returned to the exam room.

  Frankly, it was the last thing Ally wanted to do, but she nodded. “Let’s go out to the counter, I’ll need your phone number.”

  When she picked up a paper and pencil, Amanda rattled off her number. The door flung open, revealing Ellen Cartwright.

  Roxy barked and got to her feet. In Ally’s opinion, the boxer had good taste when it came to people. Today Ellen was dressed in robin’s egg blue. Blue suit, blue pumps, perfectly straight blond hair.

  Ally was keenly jealous of Ellen’s straight blond hair.

  “Amanda, what have I told you about leaving while I’m in the middle of an open house?” Ellen demanded.

  “I found a bleeding baby bunny and brought it to Dr. Winter. She’s going to fix her all better.”

  A flash of anger from Ellen speared Ally. “You don’t have my permission to treat a wild animal.”

  It was on the tip of Ally’s tongue to respond she didn’t need Ellen’s permission, but decided to try smoothing things over. “I understand, Ms. Cartwright. You won’t be held responsible for any bills associated with caring for the rabbit.”

  There wouldn’t be any bills as the rabbit was dead, but she wasn’t going to say that in front of Amanda.

  “Why do you keep doing this?” Ellen asked Amanda, true bewilderment in her gaze.

  “I dunno,” Amanda muttered, staring down at her shoes.

  “Amanda loves animals, and I’m sure she’s just looking out for the injured or lost ones because she doesn’t have a pet of her own,” Ally offered.

  Ellen scowled. “We can’t have pets. Who would look after it while I’m at work and Amanda’s at school?” She shook her head. “No, this has to stop. Amanda, go wash your hands, there’s no telling what diseases that thing might have.”

  The girl’s shoulders slumped, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  “This way.” Ally steered Amanda to the public restroom. She stood by, making sure the girl actually washed her hands. “Your mom is right about one thing, Amanda.”

  “Like what?”

  “Wild animals, like that baby bunny, can carry diseases. Very bad diseases. Have you heard about rabies?”

  Amanda finished washing and drying her hands. “Yeah, but I didn’t see the bunny foaming around her mouth.”

  “Not all animals with rabies foam at the mouth—they might act goofy, or be easily caught by other wild animals because they can’t run as fast.” She knelt down so she was at eye level with the girl. “Rabies is very bad for humans, Amanda. The treatment is really painful, lots of shots which don’t feel good. You need to stay away from injured wild animals like birds, bunnies, raccoons, mice, anything that doesn’t come from a pet store or animal adoption. I wouldn’t want you to get sick, okay?”

  Amanda slowly nodded. “Okay. But you heard my mom. We can’t get a pet.”

  “I know.” And that was sad in its own way. Not that she had any right to pass judgment on Ellen Cartwright’s reasons for not having a dog or a cat. “Maybe you can come by and help me with Roxy once in a while. That way, you can still be near pets without having one of your own.”

  “Really?” Amanda’s entire face lit up. She threw her arms arou
nd Ally’s neck and squeezed tightly. “Thanks, Dr. Winter. You’re the best.”

  She hugged the girl back. “It’s not a problem. And you may as well call me Ally.”

  Amanda released her and stepped back, ducking her head shyly. “Okay—Ally.”

  She took Amanda’s hand and walked her back to her mother. Ellen was tapping her pointy-toed shoe impatiently. “Let’s go, Amanda.”

  Amanda obediently followed her mother out of the clinic, glancing one last time back and waving at Ally.

  She waved back and waited for the door to close before murmuring, “Poor kid.”

  “Are you really going to treat a wild animal?” Gramps asked.

  “No, the bunny is dead, so I’m going to bury it and hope Amanda forgets all about it. But later. My grooming appointment should be here any minute.”

  Gramps tapped a slip of paper on the desk. “Took a call from another pet owner needing immunizations. Looks like the Furry Friends Veterinary Clinic is in business.”

  “Yeah.” Ally smiled. It was a good feeling. A smaller clinic like this might never be as busy as the one she and Tim had run in Madison, but as long as she could make enough money to pay the bills and buy groceries, she’d be fine.

  Her grooming appointment was a mixed breed, some terrier, poodle, and maybe bichon frise thrown in.

  Cooper nipped and yipped, but overall it wasn’t too difficult to wash and cut his fur. She’d cleaned out his anal glands, too, her least favorite part of the job.

  She tied the Fourth of July bandana around his neck, thinking she needed to find more material as she was running low. And pick up some fall swatches, too.

  Since Cooper’s mom wasn’t coming back until after lunch, Ally placed him in one of the crates, wincing as the volume of his yips increased. “Sorry, little guy.”

  Upon returning to the desk, she heard a loud sickening thud, followed by someone shouting, “Hey! You can’t leave!” After a quick horrified glance at Gramps, she whirled and ran out of the clinic.