Furbidden Fatality

by Deborah Blake

  * * *

  * * *

  Carter scowled at her across the visitor’s table, his already unattractive face further marred by bloodshot eyes and uncombed hair. He looked as though he’d aged ten years since he’d been arrested, and although he was just as unpleasant as always, his belligerence seemed to lack its usual force.

  Kari wasn’t sure if that was due to the sheriff’s presence, which seemed to loom over them even though he was leaning against the wall in the far corner, or just because Carter no longer had the power of a uniform to hide behind.

  “What the heck do you want?” was the only greeting she got.

  “Nice to see you too,” she said. And it was. Nice to see him behind bars, anyway. “I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me.”

  Carter crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “What’s in it for me?” he asked. “Because last I checked, I didn’t exactly owe you any favors.”

  “Considering the damage you did to my building, I’d say you owe me plenty of favors,” Kari said in an even tone. “But what did you have in mind? I’m pretty sure the sheriff would frown on me smuggling a file or a lock pick into the jail inside a cake.”

  “I would,” Richardson said. “In fact, I don’t see anything Ms. Stuart can do to help your situation. Maybe you should consider answering her questions because it is the right thing to do.”

  Carter snorted. “Sure. I’ve lost my wife, my job, my pension, and I’m sitting here in the same place I sent actual criminals to just because I bent the rules a little bit. I’m feelin’ all kinds of warmth and kindness toward the both of you just at the moment.”

  Richardson sighed and pushed off from the wall. “I told you this was a lost cause, Ms. Stuart,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Hang on a minute,” Carter said, holding up a meaty hand. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t talk to the lady. I just want something in return.”

  “What’s that?” Kari asked.

  “I want my sentence reduced,” the former deputy said. “For cooperating.”

  The sheriff made a rude noise. “Not likely. You broke a dozen laws, not to mention the vandalism to Ms. Stuart’s animal rescue. The extent of the damage makes that one a felony, which is why you’re sitting here today.”

  Carter’s bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Not if she drops the charges, it doesn’t. Everyone knows she’s rich now.” He rubbed two fingers together to represent her wealth. “Replacing a few windows is no big deal. You want me to talk, I want those vandalism charges dropped. Everything else might get me a few months, instead of a few years. Or maybe just probation and some fines.”

  “Okay,” Kari said.

  “Now wait a minute,” Richardson started to protest.

  She held up a finger. “One, I will only drop the charges if the information you give us actually helps us locate other missing dogs. And two”—she held up another finger—“if you ever come near my sanctuary or bother anyone who works there ever again, I’ll have you back in here so fast it will make your head spin.”

  Richardson raised an eyebrow, but then he shrugged. She guessed that he was figuring that with everything Carter had already lost, additional jail time was almost superfluous. “Up to you, Ms. Stuart. I can’t force you to press charges.”

  Carter sat up straighter. “So what’s this about missing dogs? If someone else is taking animals, I don’t see how I can help you none.”

  “Why don’t you start by telling us what Myers did with the animals he seized,” Kari said, ignoring his comment for now. “Did he actually have them all euthanized, or was there something else going on?”

  “Oh,” Carter said, looking away. “Well, that was kind of his special side project,” the former deputy said. “An extra earner, he called it.”

  Richardson stood up a little straighter, and Kari could tell he was suddenly interested, although he didn’t interrupt her.

  “Extra earner how?” she asked. “Did he make people pay to get their dogs back?”

  Carter shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t have worked, because then he’d have had too many folks knowing he was up to something shady. Sometimes, like with that professor’s dog, if the animal was really valuable, after Myers was done collecting the money for the tickets he’d declare the animal dangerous and seize it. But instead of having them put to sleep like he said he would, he’d sell them to someone far from town. There’s a big market for some of them purebreds, you know.”

  His thick eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Mind you, that was just his gig. I didn’t get a penny from those dogs.”

  “What a shame,” Kari said sweetly. But inside her heart was racing. “Are you saying that Steve Clark’s dog is still alive?”

  “Steve Clark? Oh, the professor. Yeah, that was the Irish wolfhound, right? Dang, those things are worth a lot of money.” He rolled his eyes. “Who the heck pays thousands of dollars for a dog? I just don’t get it.”

  Richardson pushed himself off the wall. “So the dog really is alive? Where is it?”

  “How would I know?” Carter said. “I already told you, I had nothing to do with that end of things. You’d have to look in Myers’s record book to find that kind of info.”

  “Record book?” Richardson said.

  Now it was Kari’s turn to sit up straight. “Marge Farrow told me that Bill Myers had some kind of notebook where he wrote down all his activities,” Kari said. “But she wouldn’t tell us where it was.” Kari thought it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell the sheriff that Marge had promised them the book if they could clear her of the murder charge. But finding out where Ranger had been taken was just one more reason why they had to get their hands on that notebook.

  “Huh,” was all the sheriff said. She couldn’t tell if he believed in the book’s existence or not.

  “What about Pepper?” Kari asked. “That’s why I’m here, because Georgia Travis’s dog Pepper showed up at her back door, half-starved with a rope around his neck. If he hadn’t chewed himself free, he’d still be wherever Myers left him. But why take that dog? You said that Myers would pull this scam with valuable animals. Pepper is a retired police dog. He wasn’t worth much money. Why take him?”

  Carter flushed and squirmed in his chair. “Uh, that one might have been my fault.”

  Richardson took one step forward. “Explain.”

  “Well, you see, I heard this rumor that Curtis Fry had a pot field somewhere in the woods where his grandfather’s old still had supposedly been,” Carter said. He couldn’t meet his former boss’s eyes and looked at Kari instead. “Fry has such a bad reputation, it seemed like it could actually be true. And we figured, well, I figured, that if we found it, we could make a little extra cash by promising not to turn him in.”

  “Blackmailing him, you mean,” the sheriff said through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. Or we could have taken the pot and sold it. It’s not like he could have called the cops, right?” Carter started to laugh at what had probably been an old joke between him and Myers, then caught himself when Richardson glared in his direction.

  “So which one did you end up doing?” the sheriff asked.

  “Neither,” Carter said. “The problem is that no one knows exactly where that old still was located. It was kind of an urban legend. Or a rural legend, I guess. Nobody is even sure if the thing existed. So Myers came up with the idea of fabricating charges against Georgia and kind of, um, commandeering the dog. He thought that being a police dog, Pepper would be able to sniff out the pot if Myers could get him anywhere close.”

  “And did he?” Kari asked. This story was getting stranger and stranger.

  “I don’t know,” Carter said, then cringed as the sheriff took another step closer. “Honest. I have no idea if Myers found anything or not. He died before he could tell me anything.”

  Richardson s
hook his head in disgust. “What a load of crap,” he said. “I’m sorry you wasted your time, Ms. Stuart. I think it’s clear that Carter here just made up this story in an effort to try to get a reduced sentence.”

  “Sheriff!” Carter protested. “It’s all true, I swear.”

  “What about Pepper?” Kari asked the sheriff. “He is still alive, after all. Maybe Myers really was using him to look for drugs.”

  Richardson sighed. “I think it is much more likely that Myers simply hadn’t disposed of the dog yet when Marge killed him. I’m glad he made it back to his owner, but that doesn’t mean there are any other dogs to find. I’m afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree; you should excuse the expression.”

  He nodded at the guard to take Carter back to his cell. He protested all the way, and the sheriff escorted Kari to the front room.

  “You need to let this go, Ms. Stuart,” he said. “I think we’ve found all the answers we’re going to find in this case.”

  Kari wasn’t dumb enough to say so out loud, but she was pretty sure he was wrong. And she had an idea of where to look next.

  Eighteen

  Kari stopped at the veterinary offices on her way back home to see if Georgia was still there. Angus came out of one of the exam rooms as Kari was chatting with the receptionist at the front desk.

  “Hey there,” he said, giving her a big smile that made her feel as though there were miniature butterflies flitting around in her stomach. “If you’re looking for Georgia, Pepper, and your friend Sara, you just missed them.”

  “Oh,” Kari said. “How is Pepper doing, if you can tell me without breaking patient-doctor confidentiality?”

  He helped himself to a cup of coffee from the station set up for staff and pet owners, and added a packet of sugar. Kari thought about having a cup herself but decided she was wired enough already.

  “I think it should be fine, since you and your friend were in the room while I was examining the dog, and clearly know as much about the circumstances as I do, if not more.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes again and Kari fought back a giggle.

  “You really need to get that trimmed,” she said. “My best friend, Suz, is a dog groomer. Maybe she can fix you up.” Kari didn’t admit it to most people, but Suz actually trimmed Kari’s hair for her. Hey, if all you wanted was an inch taken off all around, who better to do it than someone who clipped tiny dogs for a living?

  “I might take you up on that,” he said. “I never seem to have time to make an appointment. Maybe when our other vet gets back from vacation.” He sighed, looking tired.

  “Anyway, Pepper is doing really well, all things considered. He was favoring one paw because he’d torn a couple of nails. Probably trying to dig himself free or get that rope off his neck. His neck has some raw spots where the rope rubbed, and he is malnourished and dehydrated. We pulled a few ticks off him. But all of that is relatively minor and should heal up on its own with a little time and some antibiotic ointment for those sores. I think he is going to be a very spoiled dog for a while.”

  Kari had to blink rapidly for a minute, thinking about how she would feel if she thought one of her animals was dead and she suddenly got it back unexpectedly. “Georgia must feel like this is some kind of miracle. I know I do, and Pepper isn’t even my dog.”

  “Did you find out what happened to him?” Angus asked. “I still find this whole thing completely bizarre. I thought I was moving to a small, sleepy town, and now there is a murder and an embezzling court clerk and a crooked dog warden who was in cahoots with a sheriff’s deputy and dogs coming back from the dead.”

  “I assure you,” Kari said, “we’re not usually nearly this interesting. And I have to admit, I prefer it that way. But in answer to your question, it appears that the crooked dog warden stole him so he could use Pepper, who is a retired police dog, to try to sniff out a marijuana patch that might or might not exist.”

  “Good grief,” Angus said, swallowing down the rest of his coffee. “This just gets more and more intriguing.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Speaking of intriguing, Dr. Burnett will be back next week and I won’t have to cover so many hours here. I wondered if you might be interested in having coffee with me sometime.”

  Kari felt a little flicker of anticipation when she realized that he meant her when he said intriguing. She didn’t think anyone had ever referred to her that way before. She hadn’t really dated much since her divorce. In truth, the marriage had made her doubt her own judgment when it came to men. But Angus McCoy had “good guy” written all over him. She had changed a lot of things about her life recently. Maybe it was time to change this too.

  “Sure,” she said, trying not to look self-conscious. “I’d like that.”

  “Great,” he said. “I’d better get to my next patient. How about I give you a call next week?”

  “Great,” she said. “I should get going too. I’ll talk to you later.” Then it suddenly hit her that if things didn’t go well at the court hearing for Buster next week, she might not be in much of a mood for a first date. If that was what this was. Man, why did life have to be so complicated?

  * * *

  * * *

  After a quick text exchange with Sara, Kari headed over to Georgia’s house. The former state trooper lived a few blocks off Main Street in an area made up of smaller older homes with modest yards. Many of the neighboring houses had lawns strewn with tricycles and the other debris left behind by small children. Georgia’s yard was much neater, with a large oak tree in the middle and a surprisingly whimsical collection of garden gnomes lining the front walk.

  Sara opened the door and led Kari through the living room into a warm and inviting kitchen. One wall was painted a deep red that matched the pottery lining the open shelves on the walls, and copper pans hung from a rack suspended from the ceiling. Kari kind of wanted to move in, especially when she saw the window seat with its comfy cushion and bookshelf full of cookbooks.

  “Hi,” Georgia said from where she sat at the wooden table at the far end of the room. “Help yourself to some coffee or tea. I’d get up, but well”—she indicated Pepper, who was sitting next to her with his head firmly ensconced in her lap—“I’m kind of stuck.”

  “I understand completely,” Kari said. “I recently went to bed an hour later than I’d planned to because my kitten was too comfortable to move.” She took the cup of tea Sara handed her and took a seat. “I can’t believe how much better Pepper looks already.”

  He did, too. There was a bandage wrapped around his neck, and he was still way too thin, but his posture was erect and his tail thumped steadily on the floor as he snuggled up to his person. Kari thought her heart would burst with joy. It had been a tough couple of weeks, but this moment alone made it all worth it.

  Too bad she was going to ruin it.

  “Dr. McCoy did a great job with him,” Georgia said. “I’m so glad he joined the clinic. I think he’s fabulous.”

  Kari gazed down at her mug. “Yes,” she said. “He’s very nice.” She was pretty sure her face was turning pink. Maybe they’d think it was the steam.

  “Very nice?” Sara said. “Is that why you’re blushing?”

  Or not.

  “Well, he might have asked me out for coffee. You know, nothing major,” Kari said.

  Sara grinned at her. “We will definitely be discussing this later. But in the meanwhile, what did you learn from Carter? Was he willing to talk to you? Did he say anything helpful?”

  “He did,” Kari said. “But only after I agreed to drop the vandalism charges against him.”

  “Kari! You didn’t!” Sara gasped. She gave Kari the full force of her disapproving-teacher look.

  “Don’t worry,” Kari said. “I told him I’d only do it if his information led to us rescuing another dog, or something else equally useful. As it is, he admitted that Myers had
been selling at least some of the dogs he seized and supposedly euthanized.”

  “That’s great,” Georgia said. “Now you can return them to their owners.” She leaned down and gave Pepper a big hug.

  “Unfortunately, we can’t,” Kari said, sipping at her tea. “At least, not yet. Carter swears that Myers is the only one who knew what he did with the dogs, and short of a séance, there is no way we can get the information out of him.”

  “Oh.” Georgia slumped in her seat. Pepper reached up and licked her cheek.

  “Well, it’s not a completely lost cause,” Kari said. “Marge Farrow told us that Myers kept a notebook with all the info about the animals he fined unnecessarily, stole, whatever. And Carter told me that the whereabouts of Steve Clark’s dog, and others, are in it. The problem is, the only person who knows where the notebook is hidden is Marge, and she won’t tell us how to find it unless we can clear her of the murder.”

  “That’s crazy,” Georgia said.

  “Which part?” Sara asked in a dry tone. “The part where Marge expects us to clear her of murder, or the part where we actually believe anything she says?” She took a sip of her own tea, then made a face, although whether at the tea or the situation, Kari couldn’t tell.

  “Do you believe her?” Georgia asked.

  Kari sighed. “I actually do,” she admitted. “Well, I believe she didn’t commit the murder. The police found a gun, weights, and a tarp in the back of her car, and a series of texts on her phone that proved she’d set up a meeting with Myers. And she confessed to intending to kill him but swears that someone else beat her to it. It doesn’t make any sense to me that she would plan everything out so carefully and then just act on impulse instead.”

  “I take it that’s what the sheriff thinks?” Georgia said.

  Kari nodded. “Yes, it is. So he’s not even looking for someone else. Marge knew we’d been asking questions and poking around already, and knows we’re motivated to save Buster. So I guess she figures we’re her best chance at being proven innocent.”