Dogged by Death

by Laura Scott

  “What happened?” Ally caught a glimpse of a dark-colored car careening around the corner, leaving the scene of the crime. She focused her gaze on a beautiful golden retriever lying at the side of the road. It was struggling to get up, but one of its hind legs was clearly broken.

  “She hit the dog!”

  Ally dropped down beside the injured animal, quickly assessing the retriever for other signs of injury. A broken leg was one thing, but internal bleeding could be life threatening. “Is the owner nearby?” she called.

  “I don’t think so.” A young boy in his early teens knelt beside her. “I can’t believe the driver didn’t stop.”

  Unfortunately, Ally could. “Call the police,” she instructed the boy. “I’m taking the dog inside.”

  The kid had his cell phone out and was already dialing 911. The golden was easily seventy pounds, but Ally’s adrenalin had kicked in and she managed to cradle the animal in her arms and stagger to her feet.

  The kid was talking to the police dispatcher but noticed her struggle and ran to open the door.

  She hurried inside and set the golden on the table of the exam room. In Madison she’d taken care of several trauma injuries, but this was her first in Willow Bluff. The dog had a collar, his name was Amos. She finished her exam, then carried the dog into the back for X-rays.

  The left hind leg was broken, but thankfully it wasn’t too bad a break. The speed limit on Main Street was only twenty-five miles per hour; if the dog had gotten hit on the highway, he’d be in worse shape.

  Her treatment of choice for this kind of fracture would be to apply an external fixation device. Amos would have to get medication to relax him, so she could insert pins into the bones to set them properly. Not as expensive as doing a full-blown surgery, but not cheap, either.

  Using her cell phone, she called the number on the tag.

  No answer. Great. She left a message, but decided not to wait, figuring if the owner put up a fuss, she’d reduce the charges. She didn’t want to wait any longer.

  Amos was clearly in pain.

  She placed the animal in her small operating room suite and went to work. After medicating him, she quickly placed the pins and secured them to a long pole. The contraption looked a lot like an erector set, but when she finished, she felt good about how the post X-ray looked.

  He might need to wear a cone of shame to keep him from licking the pin sites, but otherwise he should do well. Placing the animal in a large crate to sleep off the meds, she washed up and returned to the clinic. The kid who’d called the police was there, and so was Noah.

  “The owner called back,” Gramps informed her. “Said to go ahead with the procedure.”

  That was good news. Avoiding Noah’s gaze, she looked at the teen. “Did you get a good glimpse of the car that hit Amos?”

  The boy nodded. “I was just telling the detective here that it was a green car, a Ford I think.”

  A green Ford? The same one she’d followed the night before and found this morning?

  What were the odds?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Did you get the license plate number?” Ally asked. She pulled out her phone. “I have one here to a green Ford and if they’re one and the same, then I know where the owner lives.” She was more upset about the dog being hit than the owner’s possible involvement in the murder.

  “No, sorry.” The kid’s shoulders slumped. “By the time I tried to look, the car was too far away.”

  “Thanks for your help, Billy,” Noah told the kid. “If I need anything else, I’ll call, okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” Billy looked at Ally. “You’re sure the dog is going to be okay?”

  “I set his leg, and he’s sleeping off the medication now. Amos should recover without a problem.”

  “Good.” Billy looked relieved. “I better go, or my mom will come looking for me.”

  Noah waited until the kid left before turning toward Ally. “What license plate number do you have in your phone?”

  It was the first question he’d directed at her since refusing her call the night before. She wanted to be mad, but always found it difficult to hang onto a grudge. “One from a green car I followed to a house located on Terrace Lane.” She held up the phone to show him the license number and address. “This is what I was trying to call you about last night.”

  Noah leaned forward to check the information, then pulled out his own phone. “Read it off to me.”

  She did as he asked. “I’ll be honest, the muffler wasn’t loud, Noah. We may have been wrong about that part. But you should know Roxy growled when I took her around the vehicle.”

  His green gaze flashed with impatience. “Why would you take Roxy around the car like that? I already told you I can’t depend on a dog’s growl to help solve a crime.”

  “You’d be foolish not to use every tool available to you,” Gramps said tartly. “The dog didn’t like Officer Roberts, and turned out he was in the house the day Marty died. It’s logical to believe Roxy knows who the killer is, too.”

  “Maybe, but she can’t testify at trial,” Noah said wearily. Ally took some comfort in the absence of an eye twitch. Maybe Gramps’ theories were growing on him.

  “We found the same car in the parking lot of the municipal building,” Gramps added helpfully. “Not far from where Marty’s car was found. You know how some criminals like to return to the scene of the crime.”

  “The scene of the crime was in Marty’s house, not the parking lot,” Noah said dryly. “And it doesn’t matter where the car was parked but who owns it. But now that I know the location of the green Ford, I can head over to question the owner about Marty’s murder and hitting the dog.”

  “Amos,” Ally said. “The golden’s name is Amos, and he’s a sweet dog. He didn’t deserve to suffer a broken leg by being hit by a car.”

  “There’s no indication the driver hit the dog on purpose.” The muscle twitch was back as Noah scowled. “And where is the dog’s owner? A better question is why is the dog roaming around town off leash?”

  It was a good point, but she still felt bad for the animal. “I don’t know, but if hitting the dog was an accident, why take off? Most normal people would stop and check to make sure the animal was okay.”

  “I agree,” Gramps chimed in. “Pretty heartless to keep going.”

  Noah sighed. “Anything else you’d like to share before I leave?”

  “Were you able to verify Roberts’s story?” Gramps asked.

  Noah remained stubbornly silent.

  “Does Roberts own a green Ford?” Ally added.

  Noah didn’t answer, but the annoyed expression in his eyes made her think the cop was not the Ford’s owner.

  “I see, so this chatting is a one-way street.” Gramps looked irritated. “I don’t have anything else to share, do you, Ally?”

  While she understood Gramps’ frustration, she knew Noah was trying to maintain a professional distance in solving this crime. Personally, she thought he’d be better off including Gramps, but clearly that wasn’t happening.

  “No. And I need to check on Amos.” She turned, hearing the door shut firmly behind Noah as he left.

  Amos was still sleeping it off. She stayed for a moment, petting his sleek fur. Poor guy would be hurting once the meds wore off, so she crossed over to her locked medicine cabinet and filled a small bottle of pain pills adjusted for his weight. She added a muscle relaxant too, just in case. Finally, she grabbed a cone and brought everything out to the front counter.

  “Any idea when the owner will get here?” she asked Gramps.

  “A guy named Mitch said he’d be here as soon as he could.” Gramps shrugged. “He didn’t give a time frame.”

  “Okay.” She propped her elbows on the counter. “Noah was right about the dog running loose around town. Makes you wonder how that happened?”

  Gramps looked down at Roxy. “Not all dogs are well trained.”

  “I’m pretty sure if
I let Roxy run around off leash, she’d take off after a squirrel or some other small animal without hesitation.” It was bugging her that Amos had been out on Main Street. “Although the difference being that I’d be out there too, chasing after her.”

  “True.” Gramps glanced down at his notes. “Oops, forgot to tell you about a boarding request. A woman named Renee Kramer is going to be out of town over the Fourth of July, wants to know if you’ll board her dog, Coco.”

  “That’s not a problem.” Ally was glad that all aspects of her business were attracting customers.

  No job too small was beginning to pay off.

  Mitch Hanover arrived wearing a construction hat and a tool belt around his waist. He was younger than she’d anticipated and looked truly worried about Amos. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, come with me. Amos is starting to come around.” She led Mitch back to the crate area. “You didn’t realize he’d gotten out?”

  “No.” Mitch dragged a hand over his face. “I have a fenced-in yard, and there’s shade and water for him. He’s never gotten loose like this before.”

  No wife or kids apparently. Not that she was interested. “Well, I’m sorry to hear he managed to escape the yard.”

  “Amos.” Mitch looked heartbroken to see his dog wearing an external fixator on his leg. He reached in to pet him. Amos lifted his head, looking groggy, but thumping his tail in recognition. “What does this mean? Will I need to stay home with him until it heals?”

  Ally hesitated. “I wouldn’t say he needs care twenty-four seven, but he shouldn’t be alone for long periods, either. Any chance you could stop over to see him a few times a day?”

  “Yeah, I can make that happen.” Mitch looked determined, and she liked him all the more for it. “My boss, Mr. Kirby, is pretty easygoing. As long as I get the work done, he won’t care if I take a few breaks throughout the day.”

  Kirby? As in Erica’s husband? It made her smile to hear Mitch describe Erica’s husband as a decent guy. “Good. If something happens and you can’t do it, just call me. I can always drop in to check on him too.” No way could she ignore Mitch and Amos’s plight.

  “Thanks, Dr. Winter, I appreciate the offer.” Mitch stared at Amos for a moment, then shook his head. “I sure wish I knew how he got out of the yard.”

  Ally hoped it wasn’t a kid’s idea of a prank, but kept her thoughts to herself. Mitch paid for the procedure without hesitation, then lifted his dog and carried him out to the truck.

  “He seems like a nice guy,” Gramps observed. “I think I like him better than your detective.”

  “Noah has no interest in being my detective,” she pointed out. “And I don’t need a boyfriend. My life is complicated enough, thank you very much.”

  “Just saying.” Gramps shrugged. “Mitch works construction the way I did. You could do worse, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “You don’t have any other scheduled appointments coming up,” Gramps continued. How about we take a drive out to Terrace Lane? See what’s happening?”

  Her grandfather was incorrigible, but Ally couldn’t deny she was curious, too. “Okay, but then we’ll grab something for lunch too, okay?”

  “Fine with me.” Gramps reached for his cane. “Let’s bring Roxy. I’m curious to see her reaction to the owner of the Ford.”

  To be honest, Ally wanted to see it too. She led the way through the clinic and out back to where her Honda was parked. Minutes later, they were on their way.

  “Do you think your detective is still there questioning the owner?” Gramps asked. “Could be the person responsible has already been arrested and taken to jail.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Ally replied. She kept a wary eye out for stray pets as she navigated the streets. As she approached house number twenty-one-zero-three, she saw Noah’s dark SUV parked in front of the place.

  But there was no sign of the green Ford. And when she pulled up alongside Noah’s SUV, he was sitting behind the wheel.

  “No one has shown up yet?” she asked, lifting a brow.

  “What are you doing here?” Noah scowled.

  “Trying to find out who lives here.” She smiled sweetly. “I need to let the dog’s owner know the name of the person who hit his dog.”

  “The dog he left running loose?” Noah countered.

  “The dog that somehow got free from his fenced-in yard,” Ally corrected. “Now, are you going to tell me who owns this place or not?”

  There was a long pause as she and Noah regarded each other through their respective open windows. Finally, he sighed. “Kimberly Mason.”

  “Kimberly Mason?” Gramps echoed with a frown. “Who is she?”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Ally argued. “She’s not on our suspect list.”

  “I’ve tried to tell you that a growling dog isn’t proof of a crime,” Noah said. “And you said yourself the car’s muffler wasn’t loud.”

  She hated to admit Noah was right. “So why did Roxy growl near the car?”

  “Ally.” Noah shook his head. “You and your grandfather absolutely need to leave the investigation to me. I’ll figure out if Kimberly is the one who accidently hit the dog, and verify she’s not Marty’s client. There’s nothing more for you to do here.”

  “You already know Kimberly Mason isn’t one of Marty’s clients?” Gramps latched onto Noah’s words. “Why didn’t you just tell us that?”

  Noah’s left eye twitched but his tone remained calm. “Leave the investigation to me.”

  “We’re going,” Ally said, quickly lifting the window to prevent Gramps from saying anything more. Pressing on the accelerator, she drove away.

  She tried to look on the bright side. At least they had one less suspect to worry about.

  * * *

  By the end of the day, Ally was more than ready to drive Gramps home. She buried Amanda’s bunny, and tried to ignore Gramps’ fixation on Kimberly Mason. “Noah pretty much told us she’s not a suspect, Gramps,” Ally said wearily.

  “I guess.” Gramps didn’t look happy as they headed outside. Ally tucked Roxy’s leash under her arm as she locked the clinic door. “But Roxy growled at the car for a reason.”

  “Dogs growl, Gramps.” She understood Noah’s frustration with her idea that Roxy could find the killer. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, so let it go, okay?”

  “Fine.” Gramps paused, then said, “How do you feel about stopping for a quick bite at the Lakefront Café?”

  “Why?” Ally was immediately suspicious. “What are you planning now?”

  “Nothing.” Gramps grinned. “It just might be nice to see if we can find anyone else that makes Roxy growl.”

  “Gramps …” she sighed. “You’re seriously killing me.”

  “What’s killing you? To share a meal with your own grandfather?” He thumped his cane. “How many more dinners out do you think I have left?”

  She hated when he played up his age to get what he wanted. “Fine, we’ll have dinner. But we are not going to use Roxy as a bloodhound, taking her through the patio in an attempt to sniff out a suspect.”

  “Who, me?” She didn’t for one minute buy his innocent act.

  “You want me to drive over there?” She offered. “I know it’s been a long day.”

  “Nah, I can walk.”

  She shortened her pace to match his, Roxy trotting along eagerly beside them. “I wonder if Noah has found out who hit Amos.”

  “As a detective, he should be able to solve at least one mystery,” Gramps said with a snort.

  Time to change the subject. “How is Lydia, by the way? Will she be okay at lunchtime without Tillie?”

  “She should be fine with Harriet.” Gramps shrugged. “Although I’m not sure why Tillie’s daughter didn’t take Harriet with them. Harriet is her aunt, after all.”

  From what Allie could tell, Harriet barely left the Legacy House. The widow could work wonders in the kitchen, but Ally didn’t think
she liked walking very far, despite wearing her support hose. “Maybe Harriet stayed specifically to keep Lydia company. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be the one to serve Harriet at a restaurant. I think her cooking tops anything out there.”

  “True. Just like Amelia,” Gramps said loyally.

  “Aw, you’re sweet.”

  “Whoo-hoo! Oscar!” A woman in her forties wearing a yellow summer blouse over white capri slacks and a large floppy hat waved from one of the Lakeview Café’s tables. It took Ally a moment to recognize Virginia White. “Do you have a minute to chat?”

  “Hey, Ginny.” Gramps recognized her too and nodded. “Sure, we’d be honored to join you.”

  Ally listened carefully for Roxy to growl, but the boxer was sniffing the air with curiosity, maybe enticed more by the varying scents of food rather than the people seated around them. She followed Gramps over to where Ginny White stood.

  “Sit, please,” Ginny invited with a smile. “I told Eli about your idea of getting a lawyer to get our money back, and he was very intrigued by the idea.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Gramps said. He sat across from Ginny and hooked his cane over the edge of his chair. “Where is your husband, anyway?”

  “Oh, he should be here soon.” Ginny sighed and fanned herself. “No matter how hard he tries, Eli always runs late. My, it’s certainly warm today, isn’t it?”

  “No breeze off the lake,” Gramps said wisely. Oddly enough, her grandfather never seemed bothered by the weather one way or the other. He leaned forward. “Did you meet with any of Marty’s clients about joining the lawsuit?”

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Ginny glanced up as a server approached. “These two are joining me, but we’re still waiting on one more.”

  Ally and Gramps gave their drink orders; raspberry lemonade happened to be one of her favorites, while Ginny sipped a Coke.

  “But Marty’s other clients deserve to have their money returned as well,” Gramps pointed out. “Helping them accomplish that is hardly an imposition.”