For a Good Paws

by Linda O. Johnston

  They were pretty much the same as always, since I hadn’t recently been developing any new ones. I let Mysha know about my favorites, such as the treats with yams and those with carob. I gave Herr a sample of each.

  She chose to buy some of those, plus other varieties we had. “I won’t give them all to Herr, though. I do have a couple of other clients. But … well, I miss Mr. Schulzer and his dogs. They kept me busy and I liked them, and … well, that whole thing is a shame.” Mysha’s head drooped as she spoke, but then she looked up at me. She looked even paler than when I’d first met her, and her clothes were a lot more casual now, too. I wondered if she’d dressed up to try to impress Henry. Had she liked him as more than a client?

  Had she any reason to dislike him—enough to kill him?

  I’d considered her as a possible suspect before, partly because I didn’t know her well enough to be upset if the cops suspected her. But she still seemed genuinely upset that Henry was gone.

  Which didn’t mean, of course, that she couldn’t have been the one to create that situation.

  “It is a shame,” I agreed, considering whether to attempt to get her to talk more about the subject.

  “Do you know what’s going on now with Prince and Duke?” she asked. “I’ve been so worried about them.”

  “They’re still at Mountaintop Rescue,” I told her. “We’re going to hold an adoption event here in the Barkery very soon to try to find them a new family, since Mr. Schulzer’s family wasn’t interested in keeping them.”

  “Really?” Mysha seemed to perk up. “When?”

  “I need to finalize that with Mountaintop Rescue,” I told her. “But I suspect it’ll be later this week. You can check back here, or at the rescue, to find out, if you want to come to see those dogs again.”

  “I do. Absolutely. Thanks.” Mysha stopped near the enclosure to pat Biscuit and Go, and then she and Herr left.

  And I continued to wonder what her real relationship had been with Henry … and how I might learn more. Well, it sounded as if Mysha would most likely come to the adoption event, whenever we held it.

  Which gave me even more reason to get it scheduled when I talked with Billi that afternoon.

  We got busier at the shops around lunchtime, and I didn’t have an opportunity to go to Cuppa’s that day. I wished I had, since I would have loved to get the Joes’ take on Dinah’s interview and find out if they’d eavesdropped on other conversations about it, too.

  Or, since it hadn’t been conclusively a confession or anything else, were just those of us who knew Dinah worried because we cared about her? Maybe the rest of the world didn’t find the interview particularly interesting.

  Although what Silas had shared with the detectives had gotten Wayne to come by to talk to Dinah yesterday …

  Enough. My mind had been focusing not on the customers who wanted more treats but on something I could do nothing about, at least for the moment.

  I hopped into Icing and helped Vicky there for a while, since there was a lunchtime crowd who clearly wanted sweets for themselves that day. When it slowed a little, I went into the Barkery, and then I continued checking both shops until I had to leave for the vet clinic.

  As always at the clinic, I left Biscuit with Faye and company in doggy daycare. My shift was fairly uneventful and enjoyable. I saw Reed, of course. And Arvie, who knew me well enough to ask what was wrong. The head vet and I were close, so I wasn’t really surprised, but I didn’t go into detail with him.

  Yet he clearly wasn’t surprised that what was on my mind involved concern about solving another murder …

  My shift was over soon, and Biscuit and I headed for Mountaintop Rescue. As usual, I had a bag of slightly aging treats to make sure the dogs there got tastes of something good and healthy.

  Receptionist Mimi greeted me cheerfully from behind her counter. “I bet I know why you’re here.”

  I showed her the bag of treats. “Here’s one reason.”

  “But not the only one. Billi has been talking about when to schedule the next adoption at the Barkery to see if we can find a new home for poor Prince and Duke. They’re both great dogs and don’t belong here—not that any of our charges really do.”

  “I get it, but if any animal doesn’t have a loving family, there’s no place better than Mountaintop Rescue for them to be.”

  “Thanks,” came a voice from behind me—not unexpected, since I’d heard some footsteps as I stood there. Billi must have come in from the enclosure area.

  I turned. Recently I’d seen her more in her City Councilwoman garb than her shelter manager clothing, but now she was dressed casually. That didn’t mean her attractive face wasn’t adorned perfectly with makeup, though. I smiled at her. “You ready to set up an adoption?”

  “I sure am. Let’s go to my office. I’ve got some other things to discuss with you as well.”

  Given the decisive expression on her pretty face, I had a good idea what she meant.

  A City Councilwoman watched the news, after all, particularly the local news.

  I believed I was about to have another discussion about Dinah.

  Twenty

  We headed upstairs to Billi’s office, Biscuit beside me. As always, I smiled at the sign on her door: Councilwoman Wilhelmina Matlock, Boss of the City, Canines, and Cats.

  “Come in, you two,” Billi said, referring to Biscuit and me. She was definitely an animal lover. The way she talked to pets at the shelter and otherwise was just one indication of that.

  She waved toward the wooden chairs facing her desk and I chose one, sitting down as Biscuit circled, then lay down by my feet on the antique rug.

  Billi didn’t wait for me to start. “So what was that interview of Dinah on TV this morning? I didn’t see it initially, but someone got a buzz started among the council members so I found it online. I imagine we’ve all viewed it by now. Was Dinah just playing games? It didn’t sound like she was confessing to having killed Henry Schulzer, but the possibility was there.”

  I shook my head, knowing my expression must appear wry. “Honestly, I don’t know what she was thinking, even though she and I discussed it. She’s really upset, said something about how portions of the interview were shown out of order and that was what made her appear to be saying something she didn’t mean. This may be true, but even so … well, it doesn’t really matter, but I’d told her before that happened not to talk to anyone, particularly the media.”

  “I don’t know Dinah as well as you do,” Billi said, “but I gather she enjoys talking to almost everyone as part of her research.” She paused. “Do you think she’ll ever get a novel published? It might help if something was out there that she—or you—could point to that would show the authorities why she’s asking all those questions, pushing other people to talk, maybe doing things herself …”

  “Like murdering someone to see what it feels like, in the name of research?” I snorted. “She’s said she’s finished a couple of manuscripts, but I don’t know if she thinks they’re ready to get published—or whether she’s trying to find a publisher or thinking of publishing them herself or what.”

  Billi leaned back on her desk chair. “You don’t think she really had anything to do with Henry’s death, do you?”

  “Honestly? I don’t think so. I don’t want to think so. And despite any motive the police could say she had—whether for research or because Henry threatened her and her career—I just can’t really buy into it as a logical reason to hurt anyone that way. Because of that, and because I know and like Dinah, I don’t think she murdered Henry.” My turn to pause. “But if the cops actually find some evidence against her and bring her in, I can’t say I’d be totally blindsided. If so, though, they’d better have a much more convincing motive than I can conceive of.”

  “I understand. And you have a reputation these days for getting these things
right. I hope that’s so now.” Billi smiled at me, then grew serious. “But unless you want to talk about it more now, let’s figure out when to hold the adoption event. And then I’ll take you to see how Prince and Duke are doing.”

  “I’m sure they’re doing great,” I said, “but I’d be delighted to see them.”

  After figuring out the details of the event, which we scheduled for that coming Friday, we went downstairs. I left Biscuit with Mimi at the front desk and followed Billi into the yard area, where the kennels were. I observed all the sweet, hopeful faces of dogs in their enclosures as we passed and wished I had the treats I’d brought with me, but I’d left them at the desk with Mimi. “Be sure to give out my samples here generously,” I told Billi. “I’ll bring some more soon.”

  “I will, and I’m sure they’ll all look forward to it.”

  Soon we got to the enclosure housing Henry’s two dogs. Billi accompanied me inside, and I knelt on the cement and hugged both lovable golden cockers. “We’ll get you a new home soon,” I promised them. “Hopefully this Friday.”

  The dogs might not be able to understand my words, but I figured they read my tone of voice as caring. They snuggled with me for a short while, but I soon stood since I had to leave.

  “Let’s start publicizing that adoption event right away,” I said to Billi. “And of course a few other dogs are welcome, too.”

  “I want to make sure these two are taken into the same loving home,” Billi reminded me, but that was nothing new.

  “If the right person doesn’t come along on Friday,” I said, “we can schedule another event and start publicizing it, and the availability of these two pups, right away.”

  “Fine with me,” Billi agreed. “And I’ll start getting the word out, through my usual resources, about Friday’s event.”

  “Me too.”

  It was time for Biscuit and me to leave. On our way out, Billi pointed out some of the other dogs she was considering bringing to the adoption event. The number always varied, but she did a great job of choosing ones that people tended to like right away and, often, adopt.

  Mimi was playing with Biscuit when we got to the reception area, and I hated to interrupt their fun. On the other hand, I needed to get back to the shops. I thanked Mimi, said bye to Billi with a promise we’d talk again soon about Friday, and then Biscuit and I left.

  I had a thought on the drive back to the shops. I knew where the KnobTV station was located, at the far side of town. Knobcone Heights wasn’t a large city so it wasn’t a great distance, but as I pondered, I figured going there wouldn’t get me any more answers than if I called.

  Which I did after checking in at the shops and putting Biscuit in her enclosure in the Barkery. I said hi to Janelle and Vicky and made sure everything was under control, then went through the kitchen to my office. I looked online for the info about KnobTV and considered just sending an email, but who knew how long it might take for someone to get back to me?

  Instead, I called the main number and asked for Silas Perring.

  But he apparently wasn’t around. Maybe he was out and about interviewing someone else—making their lives more miserable for having spoken with him on camera.

  Although some people enjoyed such things and didn’t talk about matters that could hurt them.

  Instead of hanging up, though, I thought for a moment and asked for the station manager, but whoever that was also was not available. I quickly came up with the names of two other on-air reporters I was aware of, Honey Raykoff and Bobbi Hanger. Fortunately, Bobbi was there, and my call was transferred to her.

  I had never met Bobbi and didn’t know much about her other than having seen her occasionally on the air. I doubted she had much seniority, so she might not know the answer to my questions, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Hello, Carrie,” she said after I introduced myself, including that I owned Barkery and Biscuits as well as Icing on the Cake. “I don’t have a dog, but I love your Icing red velvet cupcakes. What can I do for you today? Although”—she added before I could respond—“I assume, since Silas Perring recently interviewed one of your employees, it has something to do with that.”

  “Exactly,” I said. I didn’t want to sound like I was accusing Silas of anything, so I just got into what some of the basics of TV interviewing entailed, such as how the editing was done.

  “Depends on the air time allotted to a particular story,” Bobbi said. “Those related to Mr. Schulzer’s death are generally given some priority right now since that’s still an ongoing investigation by the police.”

  “And are portions of a story ever shortened or shown out of order, or—”

  “I’m sorry, but since I’m just a reporter here I can’t get into discussions of the station’s policies on things like that. And, frankly, my understanding is that our management is not inclined to talk about how we get our stories or what we do with things we’ve recorded, such as interviews. But—well, if you’d ever like for me to come over and do a story on your bakeries, that would be fun.”

  “Good idea,” I said, trying to hide my irritation. “Let me think about that.”

  I said goodbye and hung up. I had another thought then. I had no reason to invite Bobbi to our adoption event, but Silas had attended a few before.

  I’d be sure to tell Billi to let him know about it. Better that she invite him than me.

  And after his grilling of Dinah, Silas probably would be delighted to come and interrogate my assistant again at her place of work—although I wouldn’t allow him to do that. He’d already done enough damage to Dinah’s peace of mind, and maybe her reputation, too. But I wanted him to come so I could grill him—rather than him grilling Dinah or me—on his station’s policies about the editing and sequencing of the clips in their news stories.

  I soon hurried back out to work in my shops. All went fine for the rest of the day and I closed both on time, thanking Vicky and Janelle for all their hard work that day.

  Reed called me and said that he was staying overnight at the clinic since a badly injured dog had been brought in, possibly attacked by a coyote. At least it sounded as if the poor thing could be saved, and Reed was a darned good vet. If anyone could save him, Reed could. And he didn’t need my assistance since Yolanda had already said she could stay there to help out.

  Biscuit and I were alone that night, as it turned out, since Neal was staying with Janelle. I knew I wouldn’t have slept well even if they had been around, or even if Reed had been there—although I did call him during the evening to check on how things were going with the injured dog. I fortunately caught him at a time he could talk, since the surgery to stitch up some lesions had already been finished. The dog seemed to be doing all right, so Reed was happy.

  That made me happy, too. Hopefully the pup would heal fast.

  So I slept the best I could, and Biscuit and I headed to the shops on time on Tuesday morning.

  As soon as I arrived, Dinah called. She told me she was on her way in. It was one of her days off, but she said she just wanted some company, and working was always a good way to keep her mind off other things. This was fine with me, since having extra help at the shops never hurt.

  As always, I started baking, first for Icing this time, and when I had started preparing my dog treats for the Barkery, the back door of the kitchen opened and in walked Dinah. She looked like herself, wearing an Icing on the Cake T-shirt and jeans.

  “Hi, Dinah,” I said immediately. I would have rushed over to hug her but my hands were full of carob dough. “How are you doing?”

  Her gaze seemed ironic as she looked at me with somewhat sad blue eyes. “I’m fine. I hope you’re not surprised I decided to come in today.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “I’m concerned. You know that. Having you here makes me feel better, though.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Okay, tell m
e where to start.”

  I let her do a quick cleaning job in the shops, then return to take the Icing goodies out of the oven to cool.

  We chatted a little about how she’d spent her day yesterday, which turned out to be mostly on the computer. Researching. But she said it had to do with another idea she had for a story, one that wouldn’t involve anything like what had happened to Henry.

  With her mood as light as it was, I had to believe her.

  We opened the shops on time. I asked her to hang out in Icing until Frida arrived. I remained in the Barkery, talking to Biscuit now and then as I made sure the treats I’d baked were displayed well in our glass-front cabinet.

  About half an hour after I’d opened, I was shocked to see who walked in. No, not one of the detectives this time. It was attorney Ted Culbert.

  As far as I knew, he didn’t have a dog, so I wasn’t sure why he was here—although I suspected the reason.

  “Hi, Ted,” I said. “Did you come to see Dinah?”

  “Yes. Is she here?” He was wearing a suit, as usual. His light brown hair appeared a little longer than I’d seen it before, which added to his good looks. His gaze was intense, as always, and I noted again how blue his eyes were.

  “In Icing on the Cake next door,” I told him. “Are you representing her now?”

  “Yes,” he said. “She came to my office yesterday and we spoke. She asked me to come here today so hopefully all three of us can talk, although I’m sure you know I can mostly just listen and not say anything. I won’t violate attorney-client privilege.”

  So I wouldn’t learn what Dinah had already told him. That was fine—I hoped. It was interesting that Dinah had already decided, yesterday, to come in today.

  “Sure,” I said cheerfully. “The only thing is, it’s just her and me here right now, so we can’t go off to talk. But fortunately my other assistants should be here soon.”