For a Good Paws

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For a Good Paws Page 19

by Linda O. Johnston


  “That’s what she said. I’m a little early, I know. She wanted us all to go out for coffee to talk.”

  “Fine with me,” I said, although I wished Dinah had told me. I hoped Frida and Janelle arrived on time. I’d hate for Dinah to have to pay for unused legal time.

  “Since Dinah hasn’t joined us yet,” Ted said, “how about if you tell me your take on what’s been going on? You told me before about Dinah’s birthday party. Anything more to share with me about it and her interaction with Henry Schulzer, or things that have happened since then?”

  “Can we leave that for later?” I asked as a customer walked through the Barkery door.

  “Okay.” But Ted didn’t look thrilled. He wanted me to talk outside Dinah’s presence, but since he apparently was now her lawyer, I didn’t think that was a great idea. Besides, I was in fact busy.

  But I’d do as Ted asked eventually, when we went out for coffee with Dinah. The information he wanted sounded easy and innocent enough. I would only report what I saw—and nothing about what I thought.

  For now, though, I left him alone while I continued working.

  About ten minutes later, Frida arrived, and Janelle shortly after that. Both Dinah and I had been busy waiting on customers, and Ted had sat at one of the small tables in Icing with a scone and a cup of coffee from the pot we kept brewed for when customers wanted a drink to go with their pastries. I’d given him both, no charge. I hoped he wouldn’t charge Dinah for this down time, especially since he’d admitted that he came in earlier than she’d told him to. He spent the time on his cell phone, and I wondered if he was conducting any legal research, the way Dinah sometimes conducted writing research on her phone.

  Once both my other assistants were there and had begun working, I let them know that Dinah and I would be going out for a while. No issues there, fortunately, so I grabbed Dinah from the Barkery and we told Ted we were ready to go.

  Where? To Cuppa’s, of course. I knew we’d be able to find a table that was at least somewhat secluded, whether outside on the patio or in the main coffee house. Either way, I leashed up Biscuit so she could join us.

  We walked there fairly quickly and decided to sit at a table in the corner of the patio. Our server was Kit, as it often was. I was interested to see that Ted ordered a muffin with his coffee. The scone I’d given him apparently hadn’t been enough. I couldn’t tell, due to his suit, but he didn’t appear overweight to me despite his apparent affinity for sweets.

  Irma was the one to serve our drinks and Ted’s muffin rather than Kit. She looked good, as always. Today she wore a frilly blouse and pink slacks over tennis shoes. I hoped I would appear as attractive as she did as I got older.

  “Joe’s with some other customers,” Irma told us as she bent over to pat Biscuit and place a bowl of water in front of her. “But he’ll come say hi later. Good to see all of you.” She did aim a curious glance in Ted’s direction. I figured she knew who—and what—he was.

  Only when we began to sip our coffees—Dinah’s was a latte—did our conversation begin. At least, it was somewhat of a conversation. I was the only one doing the talking after Ted got us started.

  “As mentioned, I want to know your take so far on what happened with Henry Schulzer,” Ted said, looking solemnly across the table at me. “I’d like to hear what you recall of Schulzer’s behavior at Dinah’s birthday party, as well as any opinions you have about who might have killed him, and why.”

  “Sure,” I said, and gave him a detailed rundown of who’d been at the party, how Henry had been invited to join us but wound up giving Dinah a hard time, the arrival of Mike Holpurn and his brothers, and how the rest of the party had gone after those men had left.

  “And all of you at the party had words with Mr. Schulzer?” Ted asked.

  “None of us were happy with him, at least not as far as I could tell. We all argued with him a bit. But the only people angry enough with him to consider doing him harm were the Holpurns—and I really don’t know all of that story, other than that Mike Holpurn apparently believes that the crime he went to prison for, killing Flora Schulzer long ago, was committed by Henry himself. A motive for murder? Certainly that’s more likely than Dinah’s surprise about Schulzer’s empty threats that he could hurt her career.”

  “Right,” Ted said. He asked me a few more questions about that night—including what I knew of Dinah’s second conversation with Henry and what I’d done afterwards—as well as where I believed the others who were at Dinah’s party had ended up that night.

  He also asked outright who I thought was guilty of this murder.

  “Still checking into it,” I said.

  “Do you think it could be Dinah?”

  I aimed a glance at her. She appeared tense as she waited for my answer. This was her lawyer, who would be defending her, asking the question.

  I responded with a chuckle. “You know my reputation, Ted. I’ve taken on cases when friends, or myself, were potentially the main suspect. You’re aware that Dinah’s my friend as well as my employee, and that’s the reason I’ve gotten involved with this one, too—although I have to admit that the police have questioned everyone who was at Dinah’s party, so many people I know could be considered suspects, I suppose.”

  “I’m aware of that, yes,” Ted said, aiming a puzzled gaze toward me.

  “Well, the point is that I’ve cleared everyone who I’ve tried to, so far. And I fully intend to do the same for Dinah.”

  But I was sure it didn’t escape Ted’s notice, or Dinah’s either, that I didn’t come out with a resounding note of confidence that yes, I absolutely believed Dinah was innocent.

  Twenty-One

  But Ted was her lawyer. And I was her friend. So, even though Dinah was sitting there with us, looking from one to the other, I asked Ted, “How are you going to make sure she’s not arrested? Do you have a plan? Will you be speaking with the detectives to find out who they really suspect, or to try to point them on the right pathway if they’re mostly focusing on Dinah? Or—”

  “Interesting questions,” Ted interrupted. “And I’ll keep them in mind. But as I said already, I can’t talk about my intended course of action or anything else. Attorney-client privilege is involved, for one thing.”

  I didn’t think attorney-client privilege would prevent him from answering much of what I asked, though I wasn’t familiar with its parameters. In any event, I wasn’t surprised that he used it to basically tell me to get lost, even though I’d answered his questions.

  “I understand,” I said. And I did. Ted was in charge, or at least he wanted to be. And since it was for Dinah’s benefit, I wasn’t about to argue with him.

  “But you can be sure,” he added, “everything I’ll do will be in my client’s best interests. I hope you’ll continue to cooperate and let us know if you see or hear anything, or something comes to mind, that could help exonerate her.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, meaning it. Only … “But does this mean that if you come up with some idea that would clear Dinah but pin the murder on me, you’ll run with it?”

  Ted smiled. “Could be. You’re not my client now, after all.”

  I wanted to kick him under the table, but that wouldn’t resolve anything. “Well,” I said, “my understanding is that you’re an officer of the court, so attempting to frame someone else to help your client isn’t a good idea either.”

  He laughed. “No, but I’d suggest, Carrie, that you do what you did with the other cases you were involved with and just find the real killer. That way, I’ll still have done my lawyerly duty, and you won’t be charged with the crime, right?”

  “Right,” I said, also smiling. When I looked at Dinah, she was the only solemn one at the table.

  “I just want this to be over,” she said. “And with me remaining free and absolved from any liability.” She looked me straight in the ey
e. “No matter what you might think, Carrie, I didn’t do it.”

  “Have I accused you?” I asked.

  “No, and you’ve been great about trying to help me. But you haven’t come right out and said that you’re sure I’m innocent.”

  “I’m sure you’re innocent.” I looked her straight in her glum blue eyes while saying it. Did I mean it?

  Well, it was what I was trying to convince myself of. And since it didn’t make sense for her to have committed the murder, my statement was true.

  I hoped.

  “You look serious,” she said, and her expression changed. Her glum eyes teared up and she smiled. “I think you mean it.”

  “Of course. Now, what’s next?” I asked Ted, not wanting to get into any details about my statement, like why I felt so certain. Not now, at least.

  At Ted’s instigation, we talked for a while in generalities about Henry—who he’d been, what he’d done. The possibility of his guilt in his wife’s murder. Where he’d lived since then, the members of his family who had come to Knobcone Heights for his memorial—all in the interest of bringing Ted up to date and sharing with him all I knew and thought. Including the upcoming adoption event involving Prince and Duke, Henry’s dogs.

  After a while, our coffee togetherness was over. Was I convinced Ted would ensure that Dinah was cleared?

  He was a good lawyer, as far as I knew, so I hoped so.

  Still assuming, of course, that Dinah was innocent. And she had to be. I’d already told her I believed in her innocence, after all.

  Before we got up to leave, Joe and Irma came over to see us, with Irma holding Sweetie’s leash. Their dog traded nose sniffs with Biscuit, and they both lay down near each other under the table.

  Joe looked tired, but he grinned at all of us in greeting as he took a seat. Irma sat down, too. “Good to have you all here,” Joe said. “So who’s your client here, Ted? Is Carrie in trouble again?”

  I felt sure Joe was aware of the suspicions about Dinah so I knew he was kidding. I said, “Absolutely. Don’t you know that the police have come to suspect me for all the murders committed around here? It’s almost like a game—a very nasty one—to be able to point them in other directions.”

  “Well, she’s darned good at that, isn’t she?” Joe said to Ted. “That means you don’t have to take her on as a client. Now, our buddy Dinah, here—she’d make a better client, don’t you think?” He winked one of his wrinkle-surrounded eyes at her, and everyone at the table laughed, even Dinah.

  “Good idea,” Ted said. “I think I will take Dinah on as a client.”

  We all talked for a little longer, and then the Joes excused themselves again, taking Sweetie with them. That was the cue for the rest of us to leave, too, since Kit had come over and I’d paid our tab. I figured that Dinah couldn’t afford it since she had her lawyer to pay, and if Ted paid he would just add it onto Dinah’s bill, plus a percentage or two.

  Besides, on the salary I paid Dinah, I wasn’t sure how she would keep up with her attorney bills. I’d already decided to give her a raise, as well as a loan that I’d never accept any repayment on.

  Not that I was wealthy, but with my businesses and my part-time job, I was doing a lot better than she was.

  We all walked back to my shops, since Ted had parked behind them. He said goodbye and headed toward his car.

  Dinah and I went to the front doors so I could put Biscuit into her enclosure in the Barkery. “Thanks so much for everything, Carrie,” Dinah said. “And I don’t just mean the coffee.”

  I shrugged one shoulder—the one on the arm that held Biscuit’s leash, and Biscuit looked up at me as if awaiting a doggy command. I just smiled at her and continued forward. “You’re welcome, but thanks aren’t necessary.”

  “But you at least said you believe in my innocence.”

  Then she’d seen through me. Not surprising. Dinah was an intuitive and smart person.

  “I do,” I said firmly, and realized I was meaning it more and more.

  “And I know you’ll continue helping me anyway,” she said. “I have a team now, with you and Ted. Surely the truth will somehow come out and I’ll be fully vindicated.”

  “That’s definitely what I’m hoping for,” I said, and meant it. And realized I had to do more to help, now that I really had started to accept my wonderful employee’s innocence.

  Which was a really good thing, I thought many times during the rest of the day. I didn’t have a shift at the vet clinic that afternoon, so I stayed at my stores, alternating between them. Dinah primarily worked in the Barkery, and I stayed in her presence as much as made sense. I watched her work, interacting with customers and the dogs they brought with them. She even spent some time teasing Biscuit with treats—rewarding her often, so I think my sweet pup enjoyed it.

  Dinah didn’t act at all like a murderer.

  Neither did she moan or cringe or act like the murder suspect she was.

  There wasn’t any time for her to engage in any research that day, either. Even so, I did manage to ask her, just before closing time, if she was going to do any research that night—and if so, what kind of story was she working on.

  Frida and Janelle had joined us near the counter in the Barkery since the doors to both shops were now locked. They both looked at Dinah with apparent interest.

  My dedicated full-time employee regarded all of us. “Hey, guys. You know what I’m working on when I’m not here. I hope to turn all of this into one great bestselling novel someday, and I’ll probably write it in the first person, as if I’m a genuine murder suspect.” She shot each of us a big smile, although the look in her large blue eyes wasn’t entirely amused. “But for now, I’m continuing with my research about what happened to Mayor Schulzer ten years ago, why they were certain that Mike Holpurn did it, and any suspicions that Henry was, in fact, the killer … I can check a lot of that history online. Plus, I’m researching all current-day news articles to see how Henry’s murder has been reported and who the focus seems to be on as far as suspects, cop interviews, whatever.”

  I opened my mouth. “Does that include—”

  Dinah raised her hand, to stop me from speaking, I supposed. “And before you say anything else, I mean suspects besides myself. Next time I have a day off, if I’ve got any better ideas, I may even go talk to some of those other suspects, show that I’m upset that anyone thinks I could have done it—and, oh, by the way, how do they feel about being in this position? Maybe someone will let something drop.”

  “Something like your head,” Janelle said. She was shaking her own head and I could tell she felt concerned, as I did. “If you happen to talk to the real killer that way, what makes you think he or she will be nicer to you than to Henry?”

  “I’ll just try to make sure I’m not all alone in the dark or in my house when I prod them.” Dinah’s grin seemed genuine this time.

  “Well, please be careful.” This time Frida was the one to show concern. “It’s one thing to write a story, true or not. But this situation involves two murders, maybe committed by the same person and maybe not. Like Janelle suggested, whoever is responsible may not be concerned at all about adding a third corpse to the list.”

  On that unhappy note, we closed both shops and headed home. At least I did. Janelle had indicated she was coming to my place, too, to spend the evening with Neal. Which was fine—Reed had some clinic matters to attend to, so we weren’t getting together that night either.

  I did see Neal and Janelle when they returned from dinner, but only long enough for me to take Biscuit and head to our bedroom. I figured I’d let them enjoy their time together without worrying about my presence.

  I saw Reed the next day, at my afternoon shift at the clinic. In fact, I wound up assisting him most of the time, from matters ranging from preparing a Manx cat for her regular exam to bathing a small dog who’
d injured his butt while playing in mud. A normal day of sorts at the clinic.

  And now and then, when the patients left the room, I got in a few words with Reed, letting him know about my recent conversation with Dinah and my other assistants. Then I briefly wondered if I should have kept the plans I was developing to myself.

  “So you’re really thinking of doing some actual interrogations on your own?” he asked after a Dobie and her owner exited into the hallway and I began using a sterilizer on the exam table.

  “I just don’t get a sense that the police are doing much to find out who actually killed Henry,” I said with a shake of my head. “And that could mean they’re just trying to pile together whatever evidence they can find against their favorite suspect this time, Dinah.”

  Reed came over to me and grasped my upper arms gently so I had to stop scrubbing and look at him. His great-looking face reflected his concern—and he bent to give me a quick kiss, then glanced toward the partly open door. “I understand, and I know better now than to tell you to back off, especially when you care about the prime suspect.” His grin was wry. “And sometimes those prime suspects really appreciate what you do.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and smiled back. “And you know I’ve learned to be careful.”

  “Depending on how you define ‘careful,’” he responded. Then, hearing Kayle in the hall outside talking to someone, we both stepped back, a good thing since the vet tech was carrying a small cage with a rabbit in it as he led a woman into the room.

  “Great, you’re both here,” Kayle said. “Poor Homer here has been throwing up and we need to check him out.”

  Kayle clearly adored little Homer, so I was the tech to leave the room at that time. That was fine, since my shift was nearly over and I had to head back to my shops.

  But I did catch Reed’s eye before turning to walk out. He made a gesture of holding a phone to his ear, and I nodded.

  We’d talk—and possibly get together—later.

 

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