Begging for Trouble (18 page)

Ellie had warned her competitor about losing clients because of his bad manners, but he’d ignored her. “Have you mentioned this to him?”

Natter shrugged. “I’ve tried, but he just waves off my advice, so I’m through talking to him. By the way, if you ever want to branch out into larger dogs, I’d be happy to recommend you to tenants.”

“That’s very nice of you, but don’t bother. If I get one more of these little guys in the Beaumont, I’m going to have to break the walks into shifts or hire a helper, and I can’t seem to find an assistant, no matter how hard I try.”

“You want to take a look at the cards I have from the newbies? Maybe one of them would be willing to lend you a hand.”

Now there was an idea she could work with. She’d talk it over with Vivian tonight and get her candid opinion. “Let me think on it for a couple of days,” she told him. With that, she headed to the elevator and called over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

A short while later, the trio entered the Davenport and found Randall waiting. “I left before you arrived for your afternoon rounds yesterday, but I take it you’ve met Mr. Chesney’s sister and Bradley.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie said. “And you’ll never guess what.”

“I already know what,” the senior doorman said. “Bradley is now one of your clients.”

She propped an elbow on the counter. “Did you give Ms. Janz that idea or did she think of it herself?”

“It wasn’t me,” he assured her. “But I know Mr. Chesney is thrilled with your service. I imagine it was all his idea.”

“Rob has enough stress in his life right now, so I guess I have to give it a try,” Ellie said. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll think of something.” She straightened her shoulders when a lightbulb snapped on in her mind. “You wouldn’t happen to have one of Eugene’s cards, would you?”

“Eugene? Don’t tell me the two of you have become friends.”

“Not exactly, but he did say he’d lost a couple of clients, and I know Kayla and Bradley don’t plan on being here long. I thought I could give him a little help—just to let him know I don’t totally disapprove of him.”

“Bradley seemed like a perfectly fine fellow to me,” said Randall. “Are you sure you want to foist Eugene upon him?”

“Unless I miss my guess, I’m not going to be able to handle the Great Dane with all the small pups in this building, but it will throw me off schedule if I have to take him out alone.”

Randall searched a drawer, pulled out a business card, and passed it to her. “This is Eugene’s contact information.”

“Thanks.” She stuck the card in her tote bag.

“I take it you’ve had no luck hiring an assistant.”

“Nope. Why? Has someone asked about a job?”

“I haven’t had anyone ask if a dog walker was seeking help, but I have been questioned by a few new people trying to drum up business. As far as I know, they have yet to find a client in this building.”

When she’d first started walking dogs it had been difficult finding customers. Randall had been instrumental in growing her list; so had the judge and Professor Albright. Once she and Rudy caught the creep who’d kidnapped Buddy and those other champion canines, she’d picked up a half dozen of Bibi’s clients and her business had taken off like the space shuttle.

“The doorman at the Beaumont told me the same thing. That’s where I spoke with Eugene. This is a tough business to launch, but once you have a foothold, it’s not so bad. I’ll ask Rob and his sister about Eugene when I go up. See you in a few.”

With that, she rode the elevator to Rob’s floor, where she knocked on his door. Even though he and his sister had said they were night owls, she wasn’t about to barge into a unit unless she was positive it wouldn’t disturb the tenant. A moment later, the same
snurffle
she’d heard yesterday came from underneath the door. After giving another knock, she used her key.

“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,”
said Bitsy, jumping like a pogo stick under the Great Dane’s belly.
“See, Bradley, I told you they’d be here.”

Bradley stared, his brown doggie eyes rife with suspicion.

“Is Rob around? Or maybe Kayla?” Ellie asked, ignoring the pony-sized pooch. Eugene’s dogs were big, but this hound would probably be the largest of any he walked. “I need to ask them something.”

“They’re still sleeping,”
Bitsy said.
“Is Bradley gonna come with us, ’cause I told him he could.”

Ellie did a quick calculation. If she took Bitsy and Bradley out alone, it would add about half an hour to her workload. She’d have to hotfoot it to her other buildings to get them done on time, but it was doable.

“I’m going to take the two of you out first, just to see how Bradley handles it. How does that sound?” She smiled at the Dane, whose head was even with her waist. “Bradley, you game?”

“He is. He is,”
Bitsy singsonged.
“Let’s get going. I gotta pee bad.”

She brought Rudy and Mr. T into the foyer, where the Jack Russell gave a snarl when Bradley sniffed his butt. “Be nice, T,” Ellie ordered. “He could swallow you in one bite.”

“I’d like to see him try,”
T threatened.

“No biggie, Mr. T. He’s really a cupcake,”
the poohuahua said. Then she gazed up at Ellie.
“He’s a nice dog, once you get used to him.”

Ellie ran her fingers over the Dane’s sleek black-and-white head and snapped a leash to his collar, relieved that Bradley didn’t growl or act aggressive. Then she led the four dogs to the elevator and they rode it down. On the street, she aimed for the park, where she encouraged the pair to be quick.

After Bradley did his business, he glanced at her with a doggie smirk, and she suppressed a groan. Cleaning up after a canine this size reinforced her company’s motto: Little dogs—little poop.

“Yowza,”
Rudy yipped, eyeing the Dane’s offering.
“He’s got Sampson beat by a pound.”

“Way to go, big guy,”
Twink chimed in.

In response, Bradley lifted his leg and sprayed a river onto the stone fence bordering Central Park.

Ellie sighed. She was definitely going to encourage Kayla to use Eugene. When she returned to the Davenport and took the Dane and poohuahua home, Rob’s apartment was still quiet as a tomb, so she squatted and had a talk with Bitsy.

“I meant to ask, how are you doing?”

“Good for you. Have you remembered more about the . . . bad thing that happened at the club?”

“Then I’ll find a way to do that for you. Just give me a little time.”

The poohuahua licked her hand.
“I know we can count on you, Ellie. You’re the best.”

“Okay, then. I’ll let you know what I come up with this afternoon.” She locked the door and hurried to collect the rest of the pack. After she picked up Sweetie Pie, Jett, and Stinker, they went to find Buckley. Hazel answered when they knocked at the maltipoo’s unit.

“Ellie, do you have a minute? I need to ask you a question,” said the portly woman wearing one of her full-length floral-print dresses.

“Sure, but only a minute. I’m on a tight schedule today.”

“It’s about that man.”

She knew exactly who Hazel was talking about, but she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of considering Rob some kind of maniac killer. “Sorry, but I’m not sure who you mean.”

“You know.
That
cross-dresser accused of killing
that
other drag queen during the opening of
that
club.” Hazel sneered. “So distasteful.”

“What about Rob Chesney?” Ellie asked, gearing up to support her friend.

“I signed a petition asking management to terminate his lease. Have you heard anything about it?”

“No, but I’m sure you could phone them and find out.” Then a second lightbulb clicked on in her brain, and she came up with an idea sure to lead the woman off the track and help Bitsy at the same time. “You’ve mentioned using a dog psychic for Buckley a couple of times. How good do you think she is?”

“Madame Orzo? Why, she’s fabulous. I always get the feeling Buckley and I are connecting on a deeper level after they have their monthly session.” She bent and scooped the maltipoo up in her arms. “Don’t we, my Buckley-wuckly?”

“Disgusting,”
T snorted.
“Bite her, Buck.”

Instead, Buckley growled.
“She isn’t worth the trouble, fellas. I’ll pick my own battles.”

“Ah, well, then, I think I’d like to pay her a visit,” said Ellie. “Would you happen to have her contact information handy?”

“Absolutely.” Still cradling her boy, Hazel walked into the kitchen and returned with a card in hand. “Here you are. And please tell her I sent you.”

Ellie, Rudy, and Mr. T finished morning rounds and traveled a few blocks south, enjoying the warm sun and the cool but pleasant breeze. While the dogs sniffed everything they passed and lifted a leg on anything higher than a cigarette butt, she inhaled the fresh air and the scent of emerging greenery. Buds sprouted on the trees and bushes in the park, and crocuses and daffodils peeked up through the damp earth, greeting the world in patches along the walkway.

Tulips, which would appear in a few weeks, and daffodils, along with daisies, were her favorite flowers. She usually stopped at the fresh market next door to the nearest Joe to Go and bought a bunch to take home each Friday to brighten her weekend. Every once in a while, Sam remembered and bought them for her, but she doubted he’d be delivering bouquets anytime soon.

In celebration of the rosy weather, she stopped at Pop’s lunch wagon. He’d returned to his regular spot this week, another sure sign that spring was on its way. After she and the old gent exchanged pleasantries, she took Rudy, Mr. T, the hot dogs, and her drink to a bench and sat down. It was an early lunch, but thanks to her mom, she’d been up since dawn and was now starving.

She took a bite of her wiener, savoring the spicy mustard and tart kraut piled on the bun. After washing the first mouthful down with a swig of Diet Coke, she grinned at the two dogs staring at her as if they were guards in front of Buckingham Palace.

“I guess you boys are waiting for a treat, huh?”

Tearing off two mini-chunks of the plain hot dog, she did as Rudy ordered. Since the boys would swallow anything she gave them in maybe two chews, size mattered. She had no idea how to perform the doggie Heimlich maneuver, and didn’t want to try.

A moment later, they were eye-begging again, so she finished her wiener, gave them each a last piece, and sealed the remainder in a plastic bag. Rudy would get another bit, chopped into tiny pieces, in tonight’s dinner. If Mr. T was good, she’d leave a section at Viv’s when she dropped him off and suggest that she do the same for her boy.

After tucking the bag in her tote, Ellie searched for the business cards she’d collected from Randall and Hazel Blackburg. She didn’t want to call Eugene and offer him the job of walking Bradley until she got the okay from Rob or Kayla, but she did want to contact Madame Orzo. Unable to come up with anything more she could do for Bitsy, she thought a dog psychic might help. She had to take advantage of every available option, even though grumpy Buckley griped that the woman was inept.

She dialed the number, ready to leave a message. She didn’t plan on telling Madame Orzo the reason for the visit. If the woman was truly psychic, she’d be able to figure it out for herself at the appointment.

“ ’
ello. Theez eez
Madame Orzo.
’ow
may I
’elp
you?” asked a sweet-sounding voice on the other end of the line.

“Hi. This is Ellie Engleman, and I’d like to make an appointment for—my—er—a dog.”

“But of course. What time would be convenient for you?”

Wow, thought Ellie, the woman was a fast worker. “Um . . . today? Sometime after six?”

“Af-
tair seex?
You make it at
say-ven,
yes?”

“Ah, yeah, sure. Can you give me your address?”

Madame Orzo recited an address in the Village, which Ellie dutifully wrote in her day planner. “Should I bring anything—besides the dog, that is?”

“Not unless you feel it
eez
important to the client.”

“Oh, well, okay then. We’ll see you at say—er—seven.” She slipped the phone into her tote and leaned back on the bench, unsure of exactly what the psychic meant by her last statement. Should she bring the carrier Bitsy had been sequestered in at the time of the killing? A special toy? A picture of Rob?

If it was the carrier, she could pick it up at Rob’s when she told him she wanted to keep Bitsy overnight. If he believed her, they were all set.