For a Good Paws

by Linda O. Johnston

  The room was too crowded for me to hint at throwing him a goodbye kiss, so I just left. I saw Arvie in the hallway. My boss, in his usual white jacket, greeted me warmly, which I returned. I felt his inspection, as if he was trying to figure out what I was up to in addition to working in his clinic and running my own businesses. Arvie knew I was involved with this current murder.

  “You okay?” my senior mentor and friend said.

  “Of course.” True? Kind of, but I wasn’t about to add any limitations to what I’d said. “Thanks, Arvie.” I gave him a quick hug and headed to the day care area to retrieve Biscuit from Faye and her helpers. Then we walked back toward the stores.

  When Biscuit and I entered the front door of the Barkery, I stopped in my tracks. Detective Bridget Morana stood in front of the glass display case, her cat Butterball in her arms.

  And Dinah was behind the counter, glaring at the cop, whose expression appeared vaguely amused.

  What was going on here? Of course I had to find out.

  I loosened my grip on Biscuit’s leash a little since my pup was pulling in Butterball’s direction—which was a good excuse for me to join the discussion, if Bridget needed an excuse.

  “Hi, Detective.” I interrupted whatever Dinah and Bridget were talking about. “Welcome. I assume Butterball doesn’t want a dog treat, does she?”

  “Of course not,” the middle-aged detective said. “I’m here to pick up treats for some of my colleagues’ dogs, like Chief Jonas’s Jellybean.”

  I shot a glance at Dinah, whose face was pale, but she didn’t contradict the detective.

  “So what would you like to buy today for sweet Jellybean and the rest?” I asked, putting a cool but friendly expression on my face and in my tone.

  Before Bridget could answer, the door to Icing burst open and both Janelle and Vicky stormed in. And stopped when they saw me.

  “Oh, you’re back, Carrie,” Janelle said. “That’s good.”

  “I’ll go back into Icing,” Vicky immediately added and left the room.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, not bothering to move my curious scowl away from Detective Bridget.

  “Butterball and I have been here for a little while deciding what I should buy. And since we encountered Ms. Greeley, I used the opportunity to ask her a few questions.”

  “You know she’s represented by an attorney,” I said.

  “Oh, I wasn’t attempting to get her to confess anything.” Bridget’s somewhat bushy eyebrows lifted as if she was attempting to convey absolute innocence.

  I nodded. “Of course not. But until you police have enough evidence to arrest Henry Schulzer’s killer—which isn’t Dinah—I’m going to remind her not to talk to you at all except when her lawyer is present.” I turned slightly to aim a look at Dinah, who, lips puckered in a frown, nodded back at me.

  “Okay.” Bridget’s tone was curt. She started pointing out a few biscuits and other dog treats here and there within the glass-fronted display case, and Dinah interacted with her again—putting her chosen items in a white paper bag.

  I was the one to deal with the detective’s credit card when it was time for her to pay. “Thanks for your purchase,” I told her. I wasn’t about to thank her for coming in, especially since the purchase was undoubtedly secondary in her mind to her inquisition of Dinah.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. Holding the bag under one arm and Butterball under the other, she turned to stalk out, weaving between other waiting customers. But at the door she spun back around, and though her glare was aimed at Dinah, she said, “Oh, Carrie, by the way. We’re all waiting on tenterhooks for you to solve this latest murder.”

  Then she and her kitty were gone.

  I looked at Dinah, then, who remained behind the counter. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve been better.” Her voice choked a little. “Looks like I’d better put my research into overdrive.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I replied.

  Twenty-Two

  Between customers and ensuring we had enough baked goods in each store, I warned Dinah once again not to do any new investigation or interviews of suspects in Henry Schulzer’s murder, since anything she did might appear suspicious.

  “But you got very involved when you were a murder suspect,” she reminded me as we were about to close the shops for the day. As if she had to remind me.

  “Yes, but I didn’t have others around who were really trying to figure out the truth,” I said. “Except maybe for the cops. But like I’ve said, you can be sure I’m going to help you.”

  “Thanks, Carrie.” She gave me a hug and a sad smile as she left through the kitchen door.

  Janelle was still there, standing behind me. “She can be sure you’ll try to help her,” she said as I turned around to face her, “but you can’t be certain you’ll figure it out this time.”

  “True, and I wish these murders would stop happening, for many reasons.” I took the drawer out of the cash register so I could lock it up in my office. “But since this latest murder affects Dinah, I’ll stay involved till it’s solved. And hope it’s the absolute last one.”

  Because if it wasn’t … well, I wasn’t going to reassure anyone, let alone myself, that I’d stay out of future investigations.

  But fortunately, the murders I’d solved had happened one at a time. And I had a case now that I needed to figure out quickly.

  I ducked into the kitchen and put the financial stuff away in my office. When I returned to the Barkery, Janelle wasn’t there, but I heard voices in Icing and went through that door.

  Vicky and Janelle sat at one of the tables talking, and both grew quiet as I joined them.

  “I’ve been looking at this week’s schedule, and we have everyone but Janelle signed up to work on Friday,” Vicky, my chief scheduler, said. “Isn’t that the day when the adoption event will be held?”

  “Yes,” I acknowledged, “and we’ll be really busy. Janelle, I’d love for you to take a shift, too, if you can work it out.”

  “Count on me,” she said.

  “I always do. And on you, too,” I said to the reliable Vicky. “Now both of you go home and have a great evening.”

  I certainly did, since Reed and Hugo joined me—and Neal and Janelle stayed the night at her place with Go.

  Early on Thursday morning, after we’d walked Biscuit and Hugo and eaten a light breakfast, Reed and I headed for our respective cars with our dogs.

  “So,” he said, stopping beside my driver’s door. “I assume I’ll see you this afternoon at your shift at the clinic. Anything else on your agenda besides your shops?”

  “A visit to Mountaintop Rescue to check out the residents there who might come to the adoption event tomorrow along with Prince and Duke.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that.” He leaned over to give me a final kiss of the morning. It was a nice, memorable one even after our togetherness the night before, and it made me feel even better that I’d see him again that afternoon.

  We both drove off. I hadn’t been totally honest with Reed, though, since I also intended to do something else, too, if I could fit it in that morning: visit some of the people I wanted to talk to about Henry’s murder and invite them to the adoption event. Would I learn anything more from any of them at the event, like an admission by the killer? It was highly unlikely, but it still might be very interesting to see them interacting with others now, given that it had been a while since Henry Schulzer’s memorial service and no one had been arrested yet.

  I followed our usual routine, parking behind the shops and walking around to the front to bring Biscuit into the Barkery. I let her run loose since the shops weren’t open yet. I smiled as I glanced toward the signs I’d printed up and placed on small easels here and there in the shop, advertising the adoption event tomorrow. I’d let our usual outspo
ken customers know about it too, plus the media, and would be sure to remind people by emails later. I went into the kitchen to bake.

  Dinah was the first assistant scheduled to join me, and she came in around six forty-five—a bit on the late side, since we opened at seven.

  “Sorry,” she said as she entered through the back door, placed her purse on the appropriate shelf, and washed her hands.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, wondering if she’d spent her evening in her house, doing research.

  “As okay as it can be.” She headed for the Icing side of the kitchen and looked it over. I’d already started baking the usual red velvet cupcakes and designer cookies, so there wasn’t a lot for her to do but check the timer to know when to remove them from the oven. “But I don’t like that I’m losing sleep over this horrible situation.”

  Of course she was still worried, and stewing, as I was. Although that wasn’t why I hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. Reed was, but I chose not to mention that.

  We made sure that both shops’ cases contained the appropriate treats by seven, and I went in to open the Barkery.

  Only to find that the first person to walk in was Detective Wayne Crunoll, with his dachshunds Blade and Magnum. “Good morning, Carrie,” Wayne said with a nice, innocent-looking smile that I didn’t trust at all.

  “Welcome, Detective and dogs.” I waved them in and immediately went behind the counter to get some sample treats.

  “Is Dinah here yet?” Wayne asked, as his best friends chewed their biscuits and began to nose my Biscuit in her enclosure.

  I wanted to say no, to tell him she wasn’t expected today, but all he’d have to do to prove me wrong was open the door to Icing and look in. “She’s next door, but—”

  “Great.” Wayne had the nerve to hand me his dogs’ leashes as he opened the door between shops. He didn’t go in, but he must have caught Dinah’s attention because he waved—then turned back to me.

  “I assume you’re not here to arrest her,” I said, still holding the leashes and having a very quick passing thought of choking him with them. I wouldn’t want to hurt Wayne’s dogs. Him? Well, I knew it wasn’t a good idea.

  “No, just wanted to say hi.” And undoubtedly remind Dinah that he was keeping his eyes on her as his favorite suspect. Of course, he could be acting similarly toward other suspects, too, but I knew he wouldn’t admit to it if I asked.

  “Well, I assume she said hi back, but I’m guessing she’s busy. And in any case, she knows better than to talk to cops without her attorney present.” I hoped.

  “I’ll go check.” He walked once more to the door, and this time I looped his dogs’ leashes around the fencing of Biscuit’s enclosure and followed as quickly as I could.

  When I stepped into Icing, Wayne was standing near the counter staring at Dinah. She appeared flustered as she waited on some customers who were interested in breakfast scones. But as soon as they’d paid and left, she said quietly to Wayne, “Nice to see you, Detective. Have you solved the murder case yet? Is that what you came to tell me? I didn’t do it, so if you came for a confession, bye.”

  “Guess I’m out of here for now,” Wayne said. “But I’ll see you again soon.”

  He left via the Barkery, retrieving his dogs. I stood in the Icing doorway watching him, then turned back to Dinah. “You okay?” I asked, just as more customers walked in.

  “Sure,” she said courageously and got back to work.

  And I knew I had to do more to figure this out faster, starting with what I’d been thinking about for the past few days.

  I had to wait for a short while till my other assistants arrived for the day—Vicky and Frida. Only then did I feel comfortable excusing myself and heading to my office.

  There, I called Neal. It was mid-morning now, and he was at work staffing the reception desk at the Knobcone Heights Resort. He wouldn’t have all the information I needed, but it was a start.

  Sure enough, he told me that Henry Schulzer’s children and sister were still staying there and weren’t due to check out for a few days. He hadn’t seen Mike Holpurn and his brothers recently, though. And yes, he’d just seen Mysha take a few guests’ dogs out for a walk, maybe twenty minutes ago.

  I quickly visited Dinah in Icing. “Yes,” she told me, “I know where the Holpurns are staying.” She’d memorized the location of their Airbnb home, which was just outside of downtown.

  Armed with this information, I told my assistants I was heading out for part of the morning for coffee. I didn’t tell them my destination wasn’t my usual, Cuppa-Joe’s, though.

  I headed to the resort. There, I gulped as I took the ticket to enter the parking lot, doubting Neal would be able to comp me that day. But I wouldn’t be long, and the expense was worth it.

  After heading into the lobby, I turned right and had to wait a minute while Neal assisted some arriving guests, a middle-aged couple dressed appropriately for this elite place, as my brother was, unlike me in my slacks with a Barkery T-shirt on top. I was able to speak with Neal soon, and he directed me to join him behind his desk. There, he handed me a phone receiver and connected me with the room apparently containing the Schulzers. This way, he wouldn’t get chastised for giving out private information like that room number—but I still got what I wanted, the connection.

  Yes, we could have done this without going to the resort, but this way maybe I’d get to see the Schulzer family again. Plus run into Mysha.

  “Hi,” I said brightly to Mabel, who answered the phone. “I’m down in the lobby, if you’d like to say hi. I’ve got some news about Duke and Prince.”

  “Good news, I hope. Well, just tell me over the phone. I’m too busy to come down and see you.”

  If she was that busy, what was she doing in her room? On the other hand, maybe whatever she did for a living could be partly accomplished on a computer, so she might be telling the truth.

  “I understand,” I said. Kind of. “I mostly wanted to invite you to my shop, Barkery and Biscuits, tomorrow. Mountaintop Rescue is holding an adoption event there, and your dad’s two dogs will be among those who’ll be available. I understand that your family signed their release papers. I hope you’d like to come say goodbye and see how things go with them.”

  A pause. Was Mabel going to hang up on me? Tell me where to go—besides an adoption event at my shops?

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll be there, and I’ll try to bring my brother and aunt, too.” I told her the event would start at eleven a.m., then said goodbye. After hanging up, I gave a happy pump of my fist, and Neal laughed.

  “They’re coming,” I told him unnecessarily. “Now, where can I see Mysha?”

  “Hang out here for a while. I’m not sure how long her walk will be, but I saw her and her current dog about forty-five minutes ago.”

  As it turned out, hanging out in that attractive lobby was enjoyable—especially sitting behind the desk with my brother, who fortunately wasn’t very busy. And within about five minutes, Mysha Jorgens appeared with an Irish setter on a leash.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Neal, and I hurried out to say hi.

  Mysha was dressed nattily for walking dogs, in a knee-length skirt and lacy top, but she looked appropriate for the resort. “Hi, Carrie,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you,” I said truthfully, then told her that the Mountaintop Rescue adoption event would be happening at our shops tomorrow. “Can you come?”

  “Absolutely. I want to see Prince and Duke again, just for the last time.”

  Good. I was doing well getting people to at least agree to come.

  But what about my real suspects, Mike Holpurn and his brothers? I decided to call the Holpurns, so I found a spot in the lobby and called Dinah.

  “Sure, I’ve got Mike’s phone number,” Dinah said right away. I didn’t ask her how sh
e got it. Once she gave it to me, I called Mike, expecting to get chewed out over the phone.

  But the guy sounded surprisingly nice when I told him about the adoption event, saying he’d come and bring his brothers, too.

  Why? I wondered as I hung up. I hadn’t told Mike Holpurn that he wouldn’t be the only murder suspect there.

  But he knew that Dinah worked for me, so he would know of at least one other suspect in Henry’s death who was likely to be present. Was that his reason for agreeing to come?

  Or did Holpurn actually like dogs? Maybe now that he was out of prison, he wanted one himself.

  And wouldn’t it be an odd thing if he happened to adopt one or both of Henry’s dogs?

  I hoped Billi wouldn’t allow it, if that was Holpurn’s goal. If he or his brothers showed any interest, I’d talk to her about it.

  Okay, I was ready for the adoption event tomorrow. I hurried back to my shops, but before I got to work, I had a couple more calls to make from my office. One was to Silas Perring, and the other was to Francine Metz of the Knobcone News.

  I wanted media attention for this adoption event, for the dogs’ sake … and for mine, in case anything interesting might come out with all those suspects hanging out in one spot.

  Twenty-Three

  I spent that night again with Reed. We talked about the adoption event, and he said he’d try to drop by. I enjoyed our time together, along with our dogs, but I also kept thinking, maybe too much, about what to expect the next day.

  No resolution of Henry’s murder was likely to occur. I knew that. But … well, maybe the adoption event would cause the killer to do something that would tweak my suspicions enough to check into him or her more.

  Or not. There were no guarantees that the killer would show up at the event, or even know about it. Maybe the murderer was someone neither I nor the police had thought about. Someone who’d already fled town.

  Still, if the killer was someone local, or someone I’d already been considering, there was at least a chance of something happening at the event that would provide a few clues. I hoped so—but still tried to tell myself not to count on it.