“What, made her look like she’d killed Henry Schulzer?” Now Silas stuck the microphone toward me, and I saw that Wilbur was filming me as well. I again noticed Silas’s sweet smell.
“I invited you here to memorialize the adoption event,” I told him through gritted teeth. “Not to annoy my assistant or make her look bad. Maybe it’s time for you to leave.”
“Maybe,” Silas agreed. “But you wanted me to publicize how those dogs that belonged to Mr. Schulzer found a wonderful new home, and I gather that hasn’t happened yet.”
“No,” I said, “as far as I know, it hasn’t.” Which saddened me. Maybe it wouldn’t take place this day. “And just in case it doesn’t,” I went on, “it would be a great thing if you filmed them and showed the world what great little dogs they are, so the right people will come to Mountaintop Rescue to adopt them. Okay?”
Silas didn’t look thrilled. I gathered he’d rather harass people than do a human interest story about cute dogs. But Wilbur was heading in their direction with his camera. I saw that Francine Metz was near the adorable cockers, too.
“If you don’t do it,” I said, “the Knobcone News will do it and get all the credit when the dogs get new human parents.”
Silas scowled at me but began to follow Wilbur in that direction. Francine was now holding one of the dogs—Duke, I believed. Silas shook his head and didn’t get up close and personal, but he did nod to Wilbur to film what was happening, even with a reporter from another news organization in the shot. Arm outstretched, Silas stuck his microphone nearly in the dog’s mouth.
Duke looked startled, growled, then wriggled to get down, and Francine obeyed.
“They’re both so cute,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind adopting one of them, but I know they need to be kept together. That wouldn’t work in my apartment building. Oh well.”
Oh well, indeed, I thought, but I said, “Mountaintop Rescue has lots of other dogs needing new homes who can be adopted individually.” I grinned.
“I just might do that one of these days,” Francine said.
“Great!” I responded. But would she? Who knew? If she did, she could always do an article about how it all worked out.
We’d said the event would go until one o’clock, and it was approaching that time already. Silas and Wilbur had walked off to interview others in the Barkery about why they were here and what dog treats they liked—nothing controversial, but it might please their audience.
I saw the Banners, Henry’s former neighbors, walk through the door with their little Chihuahua, Marshmallow. Kris and Paul had seemed very nice, but I doubted they’d be up for adopting Henry’s dogs any more than anyone else. Even so, they stood at the entry and looked around, taking in the view of all the people, the few animals available for adoption, and all the love and sweetness and good wishes going on.
Or so I assumed. I didn’t really know what their thoughts were, but the pleasure in their gazes suggested I’d figured them out.
I headed in their direction. They’d known Henry a little bit, and Duke and Prince, too. I had no reason to think they had anything against Henry, but neither could I completely exonerate them, at least not yet. What if they’d had some kind of dispute that no one else knew about …?
“Hi, you three,” I said. “Here to adopt a sister or brother for Marshmallow?”
Kris sent me a sad smile. “I wish we could. But our little girl is a handful—literally. And we’ll only be in town for another week or so. We live in a rented condo in Portland that has limits on pets.”
“Besides, if we were going to take in another dog, we’d most likely check out a local shelter near our home and adopt there,” Paul said. “Be supportive of the local facilities and all.”
“I understand,” I said. And I did. I certainly wanted to ensure that Mountaintop Rescue remained successful in both taking in and rehoming needy animals, and that was at least partly because it was here in Knobcone Heights. Plus, it helped that Billi was a friend of mine. “So,” I said, deciding to change the subject slightly, “do you think Marshmallow would like a sample treat?”
Kris stooped to pick up the tiny dog. “What do you think, girl?”
Marshmallow presumably didn’t know what her mom was asking, but she licked the human’s nose anyway. I laughed along with Paul and Kris. “Come over here,” I commanded with a smile and gestured for them to follow me to the display case. I scurried behind it and came out holding a couple of small peanut and cheese dog biscuits. I told Marshmallow’s owners what they were, and they approved my giving them to her.
Marshmallow downed them with no hesitation, then looked up at me as if asking for more. I smiled at her perky little face. “Maybe one more, if your mom and dad agree.”
“No more for now,” Kris said, “but we want to buy a couple dozen to take with us.”
“Great.” I asked Dinah, who was again behind the counter, to get them ready. I glanced back at the area crowded with customers and potential adopters where Silas remained, his microphone up to the mouth of someone I recognized well but hadn’t seen arrive: our current mayor, Sybill Gabbon.
At least he wasn’t annoying Dinah at the moment.
But what were Silas and the mayor talking about—pet adoptions? Henry’s murder? Something embarrassing to the mayor? She appeared uncomfortable. She seemed to tell Silas to get lost, then made her way toward the door—where some of the others I’d expected to see today were just coming in: Detectives Wayne and Bridget. Interesting. Was I not the only one who was hoping something would happen here at the adoption event to root out who’d killed Henry?
Or were the detectives simply interested in what pets were looking for new homes?
As the mayor reached them, they all seemed to grow particularly serious, and not for the first time I wished I had a dog’s keen hearing so I could know what they were talking about.
Then, almost as if they’d heard my thoughts, the three made their way through the crowd together toward me.
“Nice event,” Mayor Sybill said. Of the three of them, she’d always struck me as the kindest and most down-to-earth, not necessarily having an agenda when she spoke with anyone—although I assumed she wanted to make a good impression on the town’s citizens so she would continue to be elected.
“Thanks,” I told her.
“You’ve got Henry Schulzer’s dogs here from Mountaintop Rescue, right?” asked Bridget. Since she was looking toward the area of the room where they were leashed near Biscuit, I felt sure she knew the answer even if she couldn’t see them in the crowd.
“That’s right,” I acknowledged.
“Who seems to be interested in them?” Wayne asked.
“No one at the moment, so apparently whoever killed Mr. Schulzer didn’t do it with the motive of adopting his dogs when they were available.” I was half serious about that, although Tula’s actions earlier still made me wonder … but not enough to point a finger at her. Not now, at least. And no rational motive had occurred to me regarding any of the people I considered suspects.
Did the cops feel the same way?
I sort of asked, bending toward them but keeping my voice low. “I know you’re not keen on my butting into your investigations, but in case you’re wondering, my main intention today was finding those two a good new home—and my secondary one was getting as many people as possible who knew Henry to come in and check out the dogs and talk to me and others, including you, if you were here … and hopefully say something to lead us to the actual killer.”
“I figured.” Wayne didn’t sound thrilled, despite the nasty grin he aimed at me.
“And have you had any luck?” the mayor asked.
“No,” I admitted. “And it’s almost one o’clock, when the event’s scheduled to end. I’ve had little success in anything I hoped for.” I shook my head sadly as I looked once more toward where Billi no
w knelt on the floor with the two golden spaniels.
As usual, she wasn’t alone there. But this time she appeared to have a family around her: a mom and dad and two daughters.
Two twin daughters.
Prince and Duke were twins of sorts—brothers from the same litter, and they certainly looked alike, as did the two girls, who appeared to be maybe ten years old.
Was I wrong about my lack of success, at least in finding Duke and Prince a home? Would that family adopt the orphaned pups?
Would a household like theirs suit Billi’s stringent vetting of new homes for the pets she placed?
“I think I’ll go talk to Billi,” I said.
“Looks like maybe she found those dogs a new family,” the mayor observed.
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Hey, before you go over there, I want to know one thing,” Wayne said.
“What’s that?”
He moved sideways and bent toward me. Bridget did the same, though not Mayor Sybill. Uh-oh. This might be a cop thing.
“We do think you ought to keep your nose out of police business,” Wayne said quietly so only the three of us could hear. “But are you zeroing in on a suspect in the Schulzer murder?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” I said, which was true. “And I’m still sure it wasn’t Dinah Greeley.” Which was also true … mostly. “But no, I don’t know yet who did it, nor can I point you to any possible evidence you haven’t already unearthed.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Wayne said.
“Keep us informed,” said Bridget.
After nodding sadly, I hurried over to Billi.
By then, Dinah was leaning over the spaniels, too. So was Janelle, rather than taking care of customers. And when Billi confirmed that this family, the Lesiters, with their twin daughters Cate and Candy, were putting in an application for Prince and Duke, we all cheered.
“The other pets we brought also all have applications,” Billi said, standing up to talk to me. “And so far the situations seem to be acceptable, although we still have to check into them. But it appears that this adoption event was a big success.”
“I’m so glad,” I said, giving her a hug.
And I was.
But I wished I’d learned something more today, something to resolve the other matter that was battering my brain.
Who killed Henry Schulzer?
Twenty-Five
The closing time for the adoption event finally arrived. Not the closing time for my stores, though.
Once more, diligent Dinah was the one to talk to the members of the crowd who were left. She thanked them for coming, told them that treats of both the canine and human variety were still available for purchase, and reminded them to watch for the next Mountaintop Rescue event to be held here at Barkery and Biscuits.
“Of course, you don’t have to wait for one of our special events,” she concluded. “Mountaintop Rescue is open regular hours during the week and weekends, and they’re always taking in wonderful animals who need new homes—as well as finding new families for those under their care. Like you, maybe.”
I grinned as the remaining folks there applauded her, and I joined in, too. So did Billi and Janelle, the other staff member who remained in the Barkery.
I hadn’t seen Silas and Wilbur leave, but I no longer saw them anywhere. Francine Metz was still in the Barkery, though. “This was wonderful,” she said. “Check the Knobcone News for a feature about it that we’ll be publishing soon.” The pretty and dog-loving editor gave a curt nod that indicated she was serious, then she smiled. “Like I said earlier, maybe one of these days I’ll head to Mountaintop Rescue myself. I think a pup is in my future.”
This time when I applauded, it was for Francine. “Wonderful!” I said. “Just let Billi know when you’re ready, and she’ll introduce you to some of the most wonderful rescue dogs ever. A lot of great ones wind up at Mountaintop Rescue.”
“I’m counting on it. In fact, I’m starting to take notes to write an article about my entire process once I’ve adopted someone.”
“What a wonderful idea.” I’d assumed she would do this, and it could certainly be helpful to Mountaintop Rescue. “And you can always come to the Barkery for healthy treats, and take your new darling to the Knobcone Vet Clinic for exams and shots, and—”
“Enough!” Francine waved her hand that held her tablet. “I’ll want all your ideas eventually, but it’s too soon now.”
“Got it.”
She left, then, and for the next half hour Billi and her Mountaintop Rescue crew got the animals and their supplies back in the van to take back to the shelter—for now. Each of the people who’d filled out an application had promised to visit the shelter over the weekend and give Billi any further information she needed to determine if the proposed adoption was a good match.
My fingers were crossed that every one of them would work out.
I purposely hadn’t scheduled a shift at the vet clinic that day, since I’d already taken a lot of time from my stores—but the event had been absolutely worth it, particularly since there was a good chance that all the rescues had found new forever homes.
Including, hopefully, Prince and Duke.
The shops remained busy until closing time, and I had to send a couple of my assistants into the kitchen to do a little more baking, primarily for the Barkery. But no one minded. And we all shared our impressions and stories about the adoption event and our excitement about how successful it had been.
“Billi needs to bring more dogs next time,” Dinah said as we got ready to close the shops. “More pups can find new homes.”
“Right,” I said. “This time the focus was on—”
“Prince and Duke.” Dinah had removed the apron and now stood there in her casual clothes, including a Dogs Rule T-shirt. “Anyway, I’m happy for the pets. And I can’t wait to see how the stories on TV and in the newspaper portray them and our event.”
I was looking forward to it, too. That was my intended plan for that evening, at least concerning the TV news. I would look online to see if Francine had posted a story on the Knobcone News website, but I figured it was more likely to appear tomorrow in the paper—and I intended to buy a hard copy, or several, to save.
I wasn’t the only one who wanted to see what Silas said, as it turned out. I told Reed about everything, and he was happy to watch the news segment with me. Janelle had already told Neal that she intended to watch it and that he was welcome to join her.
And so we all headed to my house. Neal picked up some pizza on the way home, while Janelle went to retrieve Go. Reed and Hugo arrived a little after the others, but that was fine. I set my television’s DVR to record the local news, both the early and late versions.
We walked our dogs. They got along well. They’d seen a lot of each other, after all, and none was particularly aggressive.
Then I got the dogs treats from the kitchen, and all the humans went in to pick out their pizza and drinks—wine, beer, or water. Next we adjourned into the living room, where I turned on the TV.
It was late enough that there’d already been a half-hour segment of the news, but since I’d set it to record before we walked the dogs, we could watch it from the beginning. Soon we were all sitting on my living room’s fluffy old beige couch, or on the matching chairs beside it, with the dogs lying on the floor near us.
I used the remote to tune in, then to speed through the beginning till I got to the part about the adoption event. Sure enough, Silas dominated the screen. He was shown interviewing my customers and other people who’d just come in to see what the event was about. He talked to the cops and to Mayor Sybill and to the Holpurns—which was interesting, but nothing particularly stood out as useful.
Silas also talked to the Banners, and to the Lesiter family who’d put an application in to adopt Henry’s dogs. He sat
down on the floor where the cat crates were and meowed at them. He held out his arms for the other dogs Billi had brought in, including the basset hound mix. I wished I’d gotten their names. Maybe I still would.
The dachshund snuggled onto Silas’s lap, and the newsman said nice things as he petted the friendly dog.
Which somehow set my mind reeling as I recalled something.
Something that hadn’t seemed important at the time, and yet …
The segment was soon over and I let the news continue so everyone could still watch it.
But my mind wasn’t there—not entirely. I probably was just creating a mountain out of a molehill … but I needed to ponder it, at least overnight.
And maybe I’d figure out what to do about it.
The next day, I still hadn’t determined the best way to handle it—to do my research, as Dinah would put it.
But I had to do something, as quickly and safely as possible. If I was right, the results could be far-reaching. But my idea was just too bizarre to have a basis in reality … right?
Well, I had to follow up on it to at least be able to eliminate it from my thoughts.
I didn’t let Reed know, though. We went through our usual regimen of his getting up early with me and walking our dogs, then he left for home while I got ready to head to my shops. We went out to our cars together with Biscuit and Hugo. Neal, Janelle, and Go were presumably still sleeping.
“So—I know you don’t have a shift at the clinic today,” Reed said, standing near my driver’s door with me. “Interested in getting together this evening?”
“I’m always interested,” I said with a smile, and the long, sweet kiss we shared only underscored why I wanted to get together with him that night.
“Are you okay?” he asked, staring with what looked like puzzlement into my eyes. “You seem—well, stressed.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, glad in some ways that we were close enough that he could read my moods, but I didn’t want to discuss anything about what I was thinking. Not yet, at least.
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