Begging for Trouble (15 page)

Sam’s gut clenched at her confused expression. What the hell else was he supposed to do? He’d already rescued her from three dangerous situations. One of these days she was going to be in a fix without him, and then what?

Ellie was the only woman he wanted in his life, but not at the cost of losing her to some nutcase killer. If they broke it off, maybe she’d take his words to heart and keep out of police business. It was the only way he could think to keep her safe.

 

Ellie had retrieved Rudy and Bitsy and just finished her second round of walks in the first two of her buildings. She still felt brain-battered by Sam’s abrupt dismissal, and his statement continued to ring in her mind. She’d been prepared for him to argue with her about helping Rob, and maybe she could have chosen her words more carefully, but the big
kiss-off
? Did she deserve that kind of end to their relationship?

She gazed down at Rudy. “Did you say something?”

“Oh. For a minute there I thought you’d switched from lawyer jokes to knock-knock jokes.”

“Sorry—my mind was off on another planet.” In fact, Sam’s stinging remarks had been such a surprise that she’d rushed the walks she’d given so far. “What do you want to know?”

She grinned at her boy, and her heart gave a painful squeeze. Men were a dime a dozen. If Sam decided to end their relationship over something as trivial as her being what he called a snoop, her heart would be broken, but she’d work her way through the pain. If she lost Rudy, on the other hand, she’d be so devastated she might never recover.

“I imagine he’ll be alone, and he’ll look like someone who has an appointment here in the building. If I see a good prospect, I’ll just ask.” She bent and lifted Bitsy into her arms. “As soon as we’re done, we’ll take this little girl to Rob and call it a day.”

She was beat, mentally and physically. Meeting Sam at Guess Who had been a nightmare. After dealing with him and talking to over-the-top performers, she couldn’t wait to get home, nuke a Lean Cuisine, and go to bed. Just then a young man wearing a leather bomber jacket, worn jeans, and scuffed boots came through the door and checked out the lobby. When their gazes locked, he headed in her direction with his hand outstretched.

“You Ellie Engleman?” he asked, pumping her arm.

“That’s me, and I assume you’re Anthony Rizzoli.”

“You got it.” He stepped back to eye Bitsy and Rudy. “These the dogs I’m gonna walk?”

Ellie didn’t want to stare, but Mr. Rizzoli was one nice-looking kid, sort of a modern-day Fonzie from that old television series
Happy Days,
without the bouffant hair and chains. She thought of Joe Cantiglia and smiled. Some Italian men were definitely fine.

“This is Bitsy.” She set the poohuahua down on the marble tile. “She lives in another building and I’ll be taking her there after our meeting.”

He scanned the foyer with a gleam in his dark brown eyes. “I never met anybody who lived in one of these swanky places. It doesn’t look so hot to me.”

She took note of the Cranston’s newly installed front counter with a storage room behind it, which must have been constructed sometime today. The Cranston Arms had recently hired a new team of doormen who, she’d heard, were supposed to start work next week. Obviously, management would be making a few more changes to bring the place up to the standards of the other complexes on Fifth Avenue.

“Most of the buildings in this area have doormen, but the Cranston is undergoing renovation. From what I understand, they’ll have a new crew in place soon. If you decide to take the job, you’ll need to introduce yourself to them. We can do it together if you start working for me.”

“A doorman? Is that one’a them guys who wears a uniform and tips his hat when he opens the door?” Anthony appeared to approve of this idea. “Sounds like an easy job to me.”

Then maybe you should apply to their union.
Ellie kept the remark to herself. There was no need to be snotty, unless this kid said something nasty about walking her pals. Then all bets were off.

“Actually, it’s a very service-oriented position with lots of other duties as well. For now, let me introduce you to my companions.” She couldn’t wait to hear Rudy’s opinion of the man. “The small dog is Bitsy. She’s been staying with me for the past few days.”

Anthony stared at the poohuahua as if she were a rabid rat. “That’s a dog? Kinda small, ain’t she?”

“I only walk small dogs.”
Why didn’t you crouch and give Bitsy a pat?
“Usually twenty pounds or smaller. My motto is ‘little dogs—little poop,’ but I do walk a few who weigh more. One lives in this building. You’ll meet him in a couple of minutes.”

“Ah . . . poop?”

“You’ll see in a minute.”

“How about we get started? Then you’ll see what I mean.”

“Uh—sure. Why not.”

They entered the elevator and rode it to Freud’s floor while Ellie talked about the job. When she used her key to enter the Gordon apartment, Anthony was impressed.

“Will I have keys, too, so I can come and go as I please?”

Ellie squatted to clip Freud to his lead. “The keys are used for planned walks only, and most of the time you won’t go any farther than the doorway, where you’ll hook up the dog. Then you’ll lock the door like this.” She demonstrated the action. “And bring Freud along to pick up the next pooch.”

They took another elevator ride down a couple of floors, where she repeated the steps. After she introduced him to Arlo, they continued their descent, picking up Rocco and Lily along the way. She was so busy telling him about treats and the time he had to spend, she forgot about Bitsy until they arrived at the Lowensteins’.

“This is the last pickup. Then it’s off to the park.” She knocked, then stuck the key in Sampson’s door. When she opened the apartment, Mariette didn’t appear, but Sampson was waiting with the leash in his mouth. After she attached the lead, she closed the door and locked it.

She gazed at Bitsy and her stomach dropped. The poor baby was trembling so hard she could barely stand. When the rest of the pack began circling the poohuahua as if protecting her, Ellie picked her up and held her close.

“What’s wrong with the little one?” Anthony asked.

“I have no idea.” She cradled Bitsy in her arms. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said, leading the dogs to the elevator. Since it was not the time to discuss the poohuahua’s problems with a stranger, she carried Bitsy out of the complex and across the avenue to the park.

Then she gave Bitsy’s lead to Anthony. “You take her, and watch that you don’t step on her while I show you the most important part of the job.” She went over the steps he would have to follow after each dog did its business, explaining that a ticket for failure to clean up after a canine was the one thing she would not be responsible for during his employment.

Anthony did an acceptable job and copied Ellie’s actions as she and her pack walked up the block and back again. Then, with her eye on Bitsy, she led them to the Cranston and showed him the last part of the job. About a month ago she’d compiled a sample report and taken it to a printer, where she had tablets made. Now, instead of writing a time-consuming note, all she had to do was fill in the canine’s name and check off its performance. There was also a spot at the bottom for comments.

“After you make note of things on this list and set it on a hall table or kitchen counter, give the dog a biscuit, lock up, and go to the next apartment. When you’re finished dropping off the pack, you’re on your own until it’s time to return for the second round of the day.”

“Holy crappola,” said Anthony when they rode the elevator down. “This is a lot harder job than I thought it would be.”

“It’s really fun once you get used to it, but if you don’t think you can handle it . . .”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that there’s so much, ah . . .”

“Time involved?”

“Well, yeah.”

They stood in the building’s foyer, where Ellie set her tote bag on the new counter and pulled out paperwork. “You’ll need to fill out these forms, and you have my phone number. If you want the job, call and let me know, and we’ll meet here tomorrow morning. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you decided against it.”

Anthony Rizzoli took the papers and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. “Okay, sure. I’ll call you.”

When he turned and strutted out the door, Ellie gave her boy a grin. “Think we’ll hear from him?”

“I agree.” She checked on Bitsy, who appeared somewhat calmer. “Okay, time to go to the Davenport and get this little girl home,” she said, heading for the sidewalk. “She’s not used to this much walking. I imagine it’s tired her out, and that’s why she’s so upset.”

Ellie had a lot more to worry about than one job applicant. There was Rob and his murder charge. And then there was Sam . . .

Kronk, wearing an almost-earnest expression, strode from behind the counter when she entered the Davenport foyer. “
Ell-ee
, my friend. I
haf
question for you.”

She scanned the lobby, pleased that it was devoid of angry tenants demanding Rob’s eviction. “Hello to you, too, Kronk. What do you need?”

“I need you to make nice for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“To write letter to owners of build-
ink
and tell them I did right
think
when I ask tenants for their papers.”

“You want me to write a letter—for you?” Duh. Wasn’t that what the man just said?

“You tell them I did okay job, yes. I was polite and did not offense.”

“Uh, sure,” she said, intuiting what he wanted more than understanding his accented English. “Give me the company’s address and who to send it to, and I’ll write a letter.” She headed for the elevator, afraid to hear the reason for the request. If Kronk was fighting for his job, he might actually encourage the management to toss Rob out. “I’ll pick it up when I finish the walks.”

The elevator door closed and she sighed. She didn’t consider herself a friend of the Russian the way she was with Randall, but doing a simple task wasn’t a problem. Someday, crazy Kronk might repay the favor.

After collecting the dogs, who seemed happy to see Bitsy, she led them across the street to do business and then back to the Davenport, relieved to find the doorman so engrossed in handling deliveries for the tenants that he couldn’t bother with her. It was a little later than usual, but she’d had too many diversions to keep her on schedule today, and she still had to take Bitsy home and meet Rob’s sister.

Walk time finished, she returned the dogs to their apartments and aimed for Rob’s floor, where she knocked on the door instead of using her key. While waiting, Rudy started to prance in place and Bitsy sniffed the bottom of the threshold, a clue that something was up.

“Bradley’s here! He’s here!”
the poohuahua practically shouted, her joy clear.

When a deep
snurffle
seeped from under the door, she knocked again.

“Uh, Ellie,”
her boy intoned.
“Take it slow, will ya? This could turn ugly.”

“Ugly? Don’t be silly. Bitsy’s happy, and I know Rob wants her back with him.” She heard a deep
woof
, then another
snurffle
. “See, Bradley’s happy we’re here, too.”

The door swung open and Ellie’s knees went weak. Standing in front of her was . . . a pony? Exhaling a gasp, she gave a feeble grin and focused on the woman standing next to one of the largest dogs she’d ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Kayla. You must be Ellie. Come on in.”

When Bradley didn’t move, the thin, attractive blonde shoved his back end. “Move it, love bug. Bitsy’s home.”

Love bug?
Ellie waited, still unable to speak as the harlequin Great Dane stared her down.

Bitsy trotted in under the humongous canine’s legs.
“Come on, Brad. These are my best friends. Back up a few.”

“Yeah, Bradley, back up,” Ellie said to him, hoping to regain her composure. Maybe the sound of her voice echoing inside his head would shock the big pooch into obedience.

The Dane gazed at her with a look of shock in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Nor did he budge from his guarding stance. Instead, he gave another growl, only this one was throaty and menacing.

“Ah, shut up, ya big moose, and get outta my way.”
Rudy tugged his leash out of Ellie’s fingers and followed Bitsy under the behemoth and into the apartment, trotting after Kayla, who appeared oblivious to Ellie’s predicament.