Begging for Trouble (38 page)

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Authors: Judi McCoy

BOOK: Begging for Trouble
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Ellie gazed down at the Pug. “There’s no one to look after Sampson. Would it be all right if I took him to my place?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t see why not. This isn’t a crime scene, and we’ve removed the evidence. What do you plan to do with him?”
“Keep him for a while. Maybe you could find out if the Lowensteins have children? If not, I’ll check with Pug rescue. They have a great group here in Manhattan.”
He touched her cheek, the one that still stung from the judge’s slap. “Good thing there were other cops around, or I would have ‘accidentally’ got in a punch for this.”
“It’s no biggie,” said Ellie. She nestled her nose in his palm and smiled. “Do I have to go to the station and give a statement?”
He raised a shoulder. “I don’t think that’s necessary. By the time the suspects are booked and their lawyer arrives, it’ll be all over. If we need your version of things, you can come down tomorrow.”
Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for that. So . . . I guess you need to leave.”
Sam backed up a step. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, so yes. You going to be all right?”
She thought about her afternoon. “I’ll walk Bitsy home. Then Rudy, Sampson, and I will catch a cab to my place. I still have a second round of walks, which means I’ll worry about getting hold of Pug rescue tomorrow.”
He leaned in and kissed her aching face. “You going to lock up here?”
Ellie nodded. “Yes, and then I’ll stop at the doormen’s station and give them the news.”
“I’ll put in a word, too. Take it easy, finish your runs, and get a good night’s sleep. If I can, I’ll let myself in and spend the night. There’s something we need to discuss.”
She waited until he walked down the hall and slammed the door. Fairly certain what the “discussion” was going to be about, she slid to her knees and caught Sampson’s muzzle in her hand. “Hey, big boy. Are you okay?”
The Pug shuddered.
“I just want out of here. Are you really gonna take me to your house?”
“Sure am.” She kissed his nose. “You’re a trouper. Things will be fine. You’ll see.”
She stood, collected the leashes, and headed for the door.
“Hey, what about me? Don’t I at least get a thank-you?”
Stopping, she dropped to a squat in front of Rudy. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you how proud I am of you. And thanks for trying to protect Sampson and me. You saved my bacon again.”
“Bacon? Did you say bacon?”
whimpered Sampson.
“I love bacon,”
Bitsy yipped.
“Not for you, big butt,”
Rudy sniped.
“If I don’t get any, neither do—”
Ellie grinned. Bacon or no bacon, listening to her boy gripe told her that things were almost back to normal. A normal she loved.
Epilogue
Vivian poured Ellie a glass of white wine, set it on the kitchen table, and took a seat. “I still can’t believe the story. The way things just ‘happen’ to you”—Viv used air quotes—“makes me think you should exchange the caramel you put in your coffee for Jack Daniel’s. That might help get you through the day.”
Ellie sipped her Pinot Grigio. It was after seven, and she was beat. “The wine is fine. Thanks. But if things continue the same as today, I’ll need more than a shot of booze to keep me sane.” She slumped over her kitchen table, while Rudy stood next to her with his paws on her thigh. “God, what a mess.”
“But it’s over, right? Rob’s free?”
“As a bird. His attorney had called him by the time I arrived for the afternoon run. Kayla and Bradley are leaving tomorrow. She and her boy hated the snow. They can’t wait to get back to Phoenix.”
“And the Lowensteins have been arrested for murder.”
“Involuntary manslaughter, actually. And only Mariette. That’s the charge levied when a murder is committed in an act of passion. She didn’t bring a weapon, just fell apart and used what she found to do the deed. The judge is an accomplice of some kind.” She drank another gulp of wine. “The legalese makes my head ache. I need to go to bed.”
“I understand.” Vivian took a swallow of her Merlot, then stood and set the glass in the sink.
Ellie ruffled her boy’s ears. “So where is our pudgy houseguest?”
“He’s in the spare bedroom, asleep. He’s pretty bummed about what happened.”
“I know. I have to bring him to Pug rescue tomorrow. They said they’d foster him until the judge and Mariette are out on bail. Poor little guy.”
“I still can’t believe Mariette was the real killer,” said Viv, reluctant to leave. “I bet that was a surprise.”
“Ya think?” Ellie heaved a sigh. “Thank God Sam sorted it all out, because I was lost. Even after she told me she had bunion trouble, I didn’t connect it with her wearing her husband’s shoes.”
“Imagine, being so vain she didn’t want the surgery. And being willing to live with a man who has sex with other men.”
“According to the judge, it was more like a couple of quick boinks in his chambers. And Mariette didn’t mind staying with a gay husband, as long as they kept it a secret. But if word leaked out, she’d lose her socialite standing as the wife of a prominent judicial figure. Her husband would be disbarred—”
“Is that what they call disciplining a judge who has sex with the accused on a case he’s trying?”
“It’s more than that for Norm Lowenstein. Since he’s what they call an Article Three judge, Congress has to impeach him. It’s going to be a total humiliation for both of them.”
“I still don’t get exactly what happened on the night of the murder.”
“Apparently Mariette had been simmering over the extra ransom request ever since Carmella made the demand. When Norm left for one of his gay hangouts, she decided to confront Carmella and tell her no dice. She dressed in slacks, a sweater, and a long black coat, and put on the pair of shoes she’d confiscated from the judge. Then she sneaked in the rear entrance of the club and waited for her target—”
“And Carmella just happened to be in her dressing room,” said Viv. “Talk about an unlucky coincidence.”
“For sure. They argued and Carmella refused to be swayed. When she turned around, Mariette spotted the scissors on one of the tables and
blam!
Carmella got it in the back of the neck.”
“And this morning?”
“When the judge realized she still hadn’t gotten rid of the clothes, he went ballistic, and I walked in on the fight.”
The downstairs buzzer rang and Vivian raced to the intercom. “I’ll get it.”
Ellie heard the muttered conversation, then heavy steps on the stairs. Putting her elbows on the table, she rested her head in her hands and locked gazes with Rudy. “Do you think Sam believed me when I told him I used my key because I wanted to say good-bye to Sampson?”
“Beats me
.
But us bein’ there helped the cops, so how can he be mad?”
Viv’s voice echoed from the front hall, and Ellie recognized the second voice. “You might want to leave the kitchen. This could get ugly.”
“No way am I gonna miss this.”
Rudy trotted to his fluff mat and parked his bottom.
“I’m here if you need me.”
Sam walked in and, cool as ice, hung his jacket on the back of a chair, then removed his empty shoulder holster and draped it over the jacket. His face composed, he took a seat. “I got away early. Since Vince is number one, he told me to leave, he’d take care of the rest.”
“Are the Lowensteins out on bail?”
“The judge is, but not Mrs. Lowenstein. Her charge is more serious, so it might take a while.” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Thanks to Mariette’s weight training, she was a strong woman. The scissors were handy, and she was able to hit the perfect spot on Pearson’s neck.”
Smart Sam. Who else would have thought to check back two years, and go for a judge’s bank account info? Ellie held her breath, waiting for the promised
discussion
. She had a good idea what it would be about and needed all her strength to rebut the accusations.
“You look a little green. Stomach upset?” he asked her.
“Nope. I’m just waiting for the ax to fall.”
He raised a brow.
“I figure you didn’t give it this morning because you were in a hurry and I was upset. Now that things have cleared, you’re here to give me the ‘I told you not to mess in police business’ lecture.”
“Yeah, big man. Accusing Ellie when she was helping a friend ... a canine friend.”
Ellie tried not to smile. Rudy had an answer for everything.
Sam’s lips curled at the corners. “You were messing in police business? When?”
She heard Rudy groan. “Ah, I don’t know. Maybe by showing up right before the search warrant fiasco?”
“You were there, but Vince and Captain Carmody say you were legal. It’s not your fault the door was open and the dogs were fighting over the bag holding the shoes, coat, and gloves of the killer.”
“We weren’t fighting. We were uncovering evidence.”
Grinning, she glanced at Rudy. “I believe the dogs were helping find the evidence.”
“Okay, that’ll work.” He stood, walked to her chair, and drew her to a stand. “Vince and the captain are on your side.”
“I just have one question,” Ellie began, still hoping to avoid the promised
discussion.
“What did Judge McDonald have to do with all this?”
“Yeah, what?”
Rudy yipped.
“Ah, well, I got the court records for Pearson’s last three busts. The first two cases were heard by McDonald. Number three was Lowenstein’s. McDonald warned Pearson that his third arrest would be jail time, but Lowenstein let him go. That frosted McDonald’s ass, so I went to him for the search warrant.”
“And he was happy to okay it?”
“Correct.”
Ellie sank into the warmth of his chest. It sounded like maybe, just maybe, she was off the hook for this one.
“Now it’s time for that talk I promised you.”
Uh-oh. She raised her head, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking. We’re pretty tight when you mind your own business—”
“Excuse me. I always mind my own business.”
“Okay, we’ll skip that. How about if I mention how nice it would be if we could share a bed—on a more regular basis.”
“It would be nice, yes, but—Hey, are you saying all I’m good for is a steady roll in the hay?”
When his face flushed, her heart flipped over in her chest. What was he getting at?
“No. No!” Sam cleared his throat. “But I’ve been thinking. Since all I want is to keep you safe—”
“Which would be nice—if you didn’t bully me.”
“Okay, so maybe that happens, but I think I’ve found a solution to our—er—my problem. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I decided you need a keeper, and I’m volunteering for the position.”
“No, no! A thousand times no! I’m her keeper,”
Rudy ruffed
. “For now and for always. That’s my job.”
Ellie opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“It’s time we thought about a more permanent solution.”
She was torn between running to her boy and telling him she needed two keepers or hugging Sam tight. Rudy would always be her number one, but having Detective Doofus near in a more personal way couldn’t hurt.
Then Sam kissed her again, and every thought in her head disappeared. A minute later, he let her go and gazed into her eyes. “I think we should move in together.”
“What? Nooooo!”
She took a breath, exhaled slowly. “Move in—as in
live
? Here?”
He grinned. “Uh, yeah. I thought that could work. Your place is bigger, there’s more closet space, and—”
“Stay where you belong, you idiot. Out of our lives.”
Ellie caught a glimpse of Rudy, now lying flat on the floor with his front paws over his eyes. “You want to live here, with Rudy and me?” She bit her lower lip, thinking. “And people would know?”
“Well, of course people would know.” His gaze narrowed. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Thoughts of her mother, of Vivian, and the guys on the police force flashed through her mind. Biting her lower lip, she cocked her head and smiled at her boy.
Sam lifted her chin with a finger and she read the love in his eyes. “Ellie, hey, I’m up here.”
She smiled and heaved a sigh. “Okay, sure. We’re flexible. We can handle it. Right, Rudy?”
“Oh, brother.”
Read on for a preview of Judi McCoy’s next Dogwalker Mystery,
Till Death Do Us Bark
Coming from Obsidian in August 2011
 
When Viv’s sister mentioned her fiancé, Vivian set her empty wineglass on a passing waiter’s tray and put her free hand on her hip. “I’d be happy to help, Arlene, but you’re forgetting something. I have yet to meet the man. I thought you’d been hiding him somewhere for a big unveiling.”
“Hiding him? Of course not. He’s been with patients all afternoon. He gets so involved in caring for them, he sometimes forgets to come up for dinner. I sent Julio to get him at least twenty minutes ago.” She huffed out a breath. “And where did Mickey go? If that man went to the cottage and corralled him into talking about business, I’m going to pitch a fit.” She scanned the terrace. “And Dr. Bree? Where the hell is everyone?”

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