by Fiona Grace
When she finished, she washed her hands and went outside to look for her next patient. But the waiting room was empty. Mason, thankfully, wasn’t asleep, but he had an industrial-size thermos of coffee and was chugging it like no tomorrow. “Who is my next appointment?”
He checked the book. “Ricci. A cat.”
She looked at the clock on the wall, over the reception desk. “Five minutes late. I wonder if it’s another no-show.”
“Nah. People around here are always late,” he said, yawning again. “Sorry I was late. I had something come up.”
His eyes were bleary, like he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. She had to wonder if that was the result of a weight that had been recently thrust upon his shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m not paying you. I’m happy you showed up at all,” she said lightly, before starting in on the real question: “Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You just seem really tired, suddenly. Ever since, you know. The thing with Mimi.”
He chuckled. “It ain’t a guilty conscience, if that’s what you’re insinuating. Besides, from what I remember, you were the one who woke me up?”
“About that.” She leaned her backside against the desk and crossed her arms, trying to choose her words carefully. “Someone said they saw you that morning. And you weren’t in bed.”
His smile fell. “Who?”
Unable to take the weight of his stare, she looked away. “Well, is it—”
“That boyfriend of yours, huh? What’s his name? G?” He shook his head, like, Figures. “Of course he’d tell you that. Anything to get me dangling from the hook.”
“So it’s not true?”
He laughed bitterly and stood up. “I didn’t say that. Fine. It’s true. I was out that morning. I was out all night, if you need to know. But just because I wasn’t in my bed that morning doesn’t prove anything.” He came up close to her, so close that his warm breath fanned her face. “And I didn’t kill the witch, if that’s what you’re thinking, Boston.”
Trapped between him and the desk, she drew back. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t say that—”
“But that’s what you thought. Admit it.”
She stood there, trembling, unable to say a word. No, she didn’t know much about Mason at all. She didn’t know he could be this intense. The fire in his eyes was enough to incinerate her. Had he snapped and gone all intense on Mimi, too? Looking at him now, it didn’t seem like that much of a stretch.
But almost the second that fire ignited, it started to burn out. His eyes softened, and he raked his hands through his hair as he let out a tired sigh. “Fine. Don’t. But then you don’t want possible suspects working for you either. It could cramp your style.”
He grabbed his mug of coffee and stalked for the door.
“Wait. You’re not leaving, are you?”
He turned around. “But that’s all this town is. Possible suspects. So good luck finding more help.”
She shook her head. “Wait! That’s not what I said. I don’t want you to—”
But before she could finish her sentence, he’d already stormed out the door.
Before she could run after him, she got a phone call. Still rattled, she forgot her normal business greeting: “Yes?”
“Is this Dottore Smart?”
She cleared her throat. “Oh. Um, yes. Is this Mr. Falco?”
“That’s right. I wanted to stop by the clinic today and see how it has been going, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to make it. So how are things?”
She shrugged. “It’s good. Busy, like I mentioned. I’m getting strays in, handling appointments. There is definitely mange going around, but we’ll get it under control, little by little. Have you heard anything about that tax?”
“Nothing official. Several people on the board have indicated it might be dead, without Mimi to back it up. So… fingers crossed.”
“That would be amazing. I’ll keep thinking good thoughts. I know you said that the budget’s tight, but is there any possibility of hiring extra help, now that …” She didn’t want to say, Now that Mimi Catalano is gone, but she’d been wondering constantly if it would improve her situation at all.
“Yes. There is a possibility. I will definitely bring it up. And I do think I may be able to squeeze more money out of the board.”
Audrey smiled. “Really? That’s good.”
“Yes. Mimi Catalano’s death was a terrible thing, but I can’t pretend that it didn’t feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. Much of the council says the same. But she did have her backers, and I’m not sure their numbers. I will keep you posted.”
Her smile faded when she realized that as much as he’d been worried about her, he, too, had a motive. “Have the police questioned you?”
“Oh, yes. Extensively,” he said, sounding exhausted. “But it is good. They need to. I, luckily, have an alibi. I was in a meeting downtown so I have several witnesses to corroborate that.”
“That’s good. I’m jealous. I wish I had the same.” She wished Mason had the same, too. At first she’d been sure G had to have been mistaken. Mason had been sleeping that morning. He wasn’t a murderer. But with the way he’d just acted… she had to admit, it was definitely suspicious.
“Don’t worry. I was speaking to Detective DiNardo, and he’s making strides in the case. There are quite a few leads he’s pursuing.”
“That’s the problem. There are too many leads. I have to imagine that it must be mind-boggling, sifting through all the information. Half the town probably had a beef with her.”
“Yes. Well. Get some sleep. I’m sure you’ll be busy tomorrow.”
She wished him good night and hung up the phone. As she did, she thought of Polpetto. The police were so busy pursuing their many leads, they really hadn’t been very interested in him at all. Which was crazy, when she stopped to think of it. Polpetto had been there, on the beach. He was, quite possibly, the most important witness of all.
A thought occurred to her, one she knew Mason would disapprove of, knowing how silly he’d thought she was for wanting to go to the beach alone. But what was he, her warden? Besides, she’d tried to tell the police. They hadn’t listened. By the time she’d snuggled into bed, it was more like a demand.
If they aren’t going to try to use Polpetto for what he knows, maybe I can.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After her last appointment left at four, Audrey set to giving the strays their afternoon care. When she finished, she looked at Polpetto.
“If only you could talk,” she said to him, stroking behind his ears. “Then you could tell me what you know, and I wouldn’t be going around accusing my friends of murder.”
But now that she had the time, maybe there was a way to get Polpetto to finally reveal what he knew.
By finding his owner, whoever that was.
Polpetto was big, a good-looking dog. Memorable. He was a pet that any owner would’ve proudly shown off. She understood if Mason hadn’t had any luck tracking down the owner. He was new to Mussomeli. But it was strange that someone like G, who knew just about everyone in town, had never seen the dog. To her, that meant it was likely the dog wasn’t even from the city.
But she was out of ideas. And whoever owned him had taken very good care of him, which meant that he’d taken him to another vet, showed him off. Other people had to know him.
Poor Polpetto. She sensed a sadness behind his eyes, like he missed the twenty-four-seven attention his owner had given him. Even if the owner didn’t know anything about the murder, the least she could do was try to reunite them.
“Okay, baby,” she said to him as she brought him to her office and sat down behind her computer. “I know what we need to do.”
While Polpetto curled up in the corner of the room, Audrey set about creating FOUND DOG posters. She used Google translate, hoping she had the Italian wording right, and placed a photograph of Polpetto in the very
center. On the bottom, she wrote: Inquire at Dott. Smart Veterinary Clinic, Via Barcellona, Mussomeli. Then she printed out one hundred copies of the flyer and grabbed her stapler.
“You ready, Polpetto, my boy?” she asked him, clipping his leash on his collar and stuffing the flyers under her arm. “Let’s go find your human!”
He excitedly sprang into action, dragging her out the door and down the street, much like before. She could barely get him to stop long enough to affix a poster to the sides of buildings and lampposts. He seemed to want to take her in an entirely different path than she’d been before, which didn’t help her determine the owner’s neighborhood at all.
A couple posters later, she was completely out of breath and exhausted. At that point, she thought she’d go back to the clinic, but Polpetto had other ideas. He started dragging her down a secluded, wooded path, away from the city. It contained a number of long switchbacks, heading down, down, down… to the bottom of the hillside. Though she could only see portions of the path from where she stood, it seemed like it went on forever.
“Whoa,” she said breathlessly to him, not that it helped. “What goes down has to go back up again, and I think you’re going to give me a heart attack if I have to climb up here again.”
Ignoring her, he barreled along, down numerous stone steps, making Audrey slip on the loose gravel of the path, until she nearly slid onto her backside. At that point, she grabbed the leash hard. Finally, Polpetto slowed.
“I know you’re excited, boy,” she said to him, trying to get him to heel. “But this path is literally my worst nightmare. You sure do love your walk, don’t you?”
He licked her hand and nodded down the path. She took that as a yes.
But she had to admit, the view from here was pretty breathtaking. Mussomeli was atop a hill, with precarious drops in all directions. From here, she could see miles and miles of green hillsides and small villages, stretching all the way out, almost to the Mediterranean. The sun was bright. The air was cool and yet not cold, and in it, she could almost smell the sea.
“All right, I forgive you for taking me on this Death March. This is some pretty scenery,” she said.
When she stepped a bit off the path, onto a rock, she looked down and saw a thin swath of dark blue water, sparkling in the setting sun. It looked familiar.
She peered closer. Was this… yes. This had to be the path that led to the lake that Detective DiNardo had told her about. Clearly, Polpetto had taken it many a time.
Squinting in the dying light, she noticed a few people walking on the beach below. Was that the beach where she’d found Mimi? Police officers, dressed all in blue. They appeared to be moving slowly, combing the area for clues. As she looked closer, she realized that one of the men, in a dark blazer, was Detective DiNardo.
The wind on this outcropping was especially fierce, almost pushing her in the direction of the beach, so even without Polpetto, she felt compelled to finish the walk. She sucked in a breath and slipped her way down the rest of the way, to level ground. Walking along the narrow path, between scrubby bushes and olive trees, she arrived on the sandy beach. Polpetto barked at the officers and dragged her along.
DiNardo looked up just as the monstrous dog was about to pounce on him. He quickly backed up as Audrey tugged on the leash, finally succeeding in getting Polpetto under control.
“Crime scene!” he shouted at her, annoyed. “Didn’t you see the tape?”
“There wasn’t any tape!” she said, scanning the area. Yes, there was bright yellow tape around the perimeter, but it disappeared before it got to the opening she’d come out of. Someone must’ve ripped it down.
Audrey winced. The light was dying, so she hadn’t seen, but it was a good chance the culprit was Polpetto, who’d been rushing so far ahead of her, willing to flatten any obstacle in his way.
The detective whistled to one of his officers and yelled something in Italian to him, motioning to the opening. The officer ran ahead and began to take care of it.
“Back up,” he said to her.
She did, though it wasn’t easy. Polpetto didn’t understand yellow crime scene tape. All he wanted was his walk. She finally got him to obey and come behind the tape. “Sorry.”
“What brings you down here?” he asked, his tone more relaxed. “Sorry if I snapped. We’ve been discouraging nosy observers all day long.”
“So you’ve had a lot of people around here?”
He nodded and reached down to pet Polpetto. Polpetto kept pulling on the leash, growling a bit. He had his sights set on his path, apparently, and would not go down without a fight. “It’s normal. People are very macabre. But it interferes with the investigation.”
“I’m sure,” she said, rolling her shoulder. Her arm ached from trying to hold the mastiff back.
He pointed to the remaining flyers under her arm. “Lost dog?”
“Polpetto was the dog I found on this beach,” she said. “Remember? I was wondering if his owner might have anything to do with the murder.”
DiNardo shook his head. “No. There are dozens of strays prowling this beach. Likely, that dog has no owner.”
“He did once,” Audrey said. “He’s very well trained and well cared for.”
“Perhaps. But as you know, the town is overrun by strays. This beach is a popular spot for them. If this dog had an owner, they likely left him here when they moved out of town. Many of these poor strays, unfortunately, once belonged to families.”
Oh. She hadn’t thought of that. That dashed her hopes of Polpetto leading her to the killer. “But he seemed to know right where Mimi’s body was. He led us there, like Lassie.”
He stared at her, eyebrows raised. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to convince him that Polpetto was in any way a key witness to the events that had transpired on this beach. Meanwhile, next to her, Polpetto continued to growl, a low, aching rumble.
“Shush, Polpetto,” she whispered, trying to calm him as she wrapped the leash around her wrist one more time. “Well, do you have any other leads?”
“We have quite a few of them. It’s not being made any easier by the fact that everyone knows someone who had a motive.”
“But very few people actually have the nerve to attack a person like that in broad daylight. Knock her over the head with a rock while she was out walking? That’s kind of gutsy, don’t you think?”
“The coroner isn’t convinced that is indeed what happened,” he said with a shrug. “She might have gotten into an altercation with someone. Maybe she was shoved, stumbled backward, and hit her head on a rock. There really is no evidence right now to say which.”
So that means, forget about being “the murdering type.” It could be anyone, Audrey thought. No wonder they think it might be me. It could be a woman.
And it could be Mason, too.
Before she could reply, Polpetto somehow shook loose of the collar she’d put on him. She reached for him, but only managed to touch his furry backside as he tore off in the direction of the lake.
“Polpetto! Wait!” she cried as he bounded off, kicking up sand in his exuberant run.
DiNardo groaned.
“Sorry.” She held up the leash. “I don’t know how he got out. I can go …”
Before she could finish, he lifted the tape for her to pass underneath.
“Thanks. Sorry again,” she said, rushing down the beach toward the dog. Thankfully, he’d gotten only halfway toward the water when he stopped. Now, he was digging with all his might, sending sand flying into the air in a white cloud.
“Hey. Cut it out!” she said to him as sand blasted against her cheeks. “Chill!”
The dog listened to her, miraculously. The second she arrived at the massive hole he’d dug, he dipped his muzzle in and pulled something out. He laid it down on Audrey’s feet; something red and leather, covered in drool and sand.
Audrey crouched to pick it up. A dog collar.
“Is this yours, boy?” she asked him, wiping the s
and from the item. It was well-constructed, heavy, and real leather, and likely had cost quite a bit of money. There was a tag hanging from it. All it said on it was Tito. “Tito?”
The dog barked.
“Is that your name? Tito?”
DiNardo approached just as the dog was barking again. “Tito. It means giant.”
Giant? She wrinkled her nose. How unoriginal. Over the past few days, she’d come to think of him as nothing but Polpetto. Polpetto, her little meatball of joy. “So I guess he’s not a stray.”
He rubbed his jaw and nodded. “I’d say not.”
She held the collar out to him. “Do you want this? As evidence?”
DiNardo shook his head. “No, the dog’s not important. There really is nothing tying that collar, or the dog, to the crime. You might as well take it. And you’d better get back up to town with this rascal. It’s starting to get dark.”
Audrey nodded and said goodbye, then dragged the dog up to the pathway up to town, out of breath and panting. Her mind spun with potential scenarios. Maybe Polpetto had fought with the assailant and lost his collar in the scuffle? Maybe the killer had torn the collar from Polpetto so that no one would know who his owner was? Maybe …
She threw herself down on a rock at the side of the path, lungs burning. Polpetto laid his head in her lap as if to say, How can I help?
“You can learn to speak English,” she whispered to him. “Because I have a feeling you know more than anyone.”
Audrey had nearly made it to the top of the pathway leading up to the city when the sun slipped down behind the buildings of Mussomeli, towering in the distance. She fanned herself, wishing she’d brought a bottle of water. Her throat was bone dry and her lungs were still screaming for mercy.
She took a few more steps, wavering in her exhaustion, when she heard footsteps approaching rapidly behind her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN