Dog Days (13 page)

“I wonder what that was about,” I said, bending down to stroke her ears. “She’s usually such a quiet dog.”

Sonny regarded Cameo with a puzzled expression, and then she looked at me. “She says,” she replied, “it was her dad.”

I lifted an eyebrow, and Jolene said, staring suspiciously at Sonny, “What?”

But there was no way I was explaining that to Jolene. I gave a dismissing wave of my hand and said, “Nothing.”

Sonny looked amused as I slapped my thigh to get the two goldens by my side and started walking again. But now she’d planted an idea in my head that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I hadn’t gotten that much of a look at Tony Madison, but the man who’d attacked me had been roughly the same size. And if he’d been the one who had stolen my purse, what better way to evade detection than to simply dispose of the mask and the purse and blend into the crowd again, acting like an ordinary fairgoer until the police moved on?

I said to Jolene, “So did Tony Madison go back to Virginia, or is he at the campground tonight? Because he didn’t answer when I called his cell phone earlier.”

Jolene said, “His wife just died. Are you really surprised he didn’t answer a phone call from a stranger?” She stepped in front of the dogs and me when we came to a corner and I saw her look right and left; it wasn’t showy, just instinct. She added, resuming her stride, “Last I heard he was staying overnight in Asheville to make arrangements for his wife’s body to be returned home.”

I said, “Do you know what he does for a living?”

She replied impatiently, “It’s not my job to give you information about our investigation, Stockton. Where are you parked?”

“In the back. Employee parking.” She made the turn at the carousel and I added, “I was just wondering if he was in the tech field.”

“He’s a CPA.” And then she paused and gave me an intense look over her shoulder. “Why? Do you have some reason to think he was the one who stole that transmitter?”

“No,” I said carefully. Except that Cameo had never barked like that before, and I would stake everything I knew about dogs on the fact that she had just seen someone she knew, and loved. “It’s just that he did lie about how long his wife had been missing. And whoever planted the device had to have easy access to Cameo’s collar, like someone who lived with her would. And the only person who could track the device would be the one who planted it, right? I mean, if he was following me.”

She did not reply, and I prompted, “You’re going to see if he has an alibi for tonight, right?”

We
had reached my car and I beeped the remote control to unlock the doors. “Because if he
did
plant the transmitter to spy on his wife, that could be the whole foundation of your case,” I went on. “It makes sense he’d want to get it back before it went into police custody.”

Jolene turned to me. “Let me ask you something, Stockton,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Just how stupid are these folks at the Hanover County Sheriff’s Department, anyway?”

I was confused. “What? What makes you think …”

“Because to hear you talk,” she went on, “you’d think not a one of them ever went to police academy or took the certification exam or even watched an episode of CSI. Well, the good news is, I’ve done all those things, and I know how to work a case. If I need help from you, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

She turned to Sonny, whose lips were tight with repressed amusement, and said politely, “Do you need any assistance, ma’am?”

Sonny replied, equally as politely, “No thank you, Officer. I can manage.”

Jolene walked away, and I muttered, “I was just trying to be helpful.”

I put the dogs in my SUV and helped Sonny with the scooter. Hero jumped into the front seat and Sonny got behind the wheel of her car. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to take your shift at the booth tomorrow?” she said. “You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

I said, “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m kind of looking forward to doing something normal for a change.”

She said, “Well, you need to take care of yourself. Go home, draw a cool bath, have a glass of wine, and call Miles. He always makes you feel better.”

She was right; he did. I felt my stomach clench as I said, “I broke up with Miles.”

The dismay on her face seemed to reflect my own. “Oh, Raine,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She added, “It’s none of my business, of course, but the two of you seemed so good together. And Miles …” She hesitated, and then said, “I’ve known him off and on through the years, and I’ve never known him to be so devoted to anyone. I thought … well, it doesn’t matter.” She smiled, though her eyes seemed to search mine as she looked at me. “It’s just that … I know you’ve got to be a little gun shy after Buck, and … are you sure this is what you want?”

I heard myself saying, with a shake of my head, “No. It’s not what I want at all. It’s just … complicated.”

She looked at me with genuine sympathy. “Raine Stockton,” she said. “You work harder at getting what you don’t want than anyone I know. If you put even a fraction of that energy into getting what you
do
want, you’d be unstoppable.”

I prickled at that and wanted to object, but Sonny started her engine. “Let me know if you change your mind about tomorrow,” she said. “I’m home all day.”

She waved as she drove off, and I lifted my hand in a feeble reply, still frowning over what she had said.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
slept restlessly and awoke once again the middle of the night, sweating and gasping from the nightmare in which everything I loved in the world was about to be blown out of existence. Instinctively I grabbed my phone and checked for a message from Miles, but there wasn’t one, of course. The hollow emptiness in my stomach settled in again as I realized that this time the nightmare had come true.

Almost. Cisco, sensing my wakefulness, rested his sweet golden head on the side of my bed and I dropped my hand atop it, stroking his ears. I lay there staring at the darkness, feeling the steady reassurance of my dog beside me, until the sound of blood roaring in my ears was silent. Night shadows swirled and lightened, and eventually I fell again into an uneasy sleep. But I was glad when daylight came.

I checked my phone again, I don’t know why. Nothing. That was fine. That was okay. It only meant that he had thought over what I’d said and come to realize I was right. It was better this way, for everyone. No long discussions, no regrets, no drawn-out good-byes. Much better.

My knee was stiff and swollen, and it took me twice as long as it usually did to get dressed and feed the dogs. I couldn’t have been more annoyed with myself. I should have let the paramedic wrap it last night; now I was going to miss most of the fun of teaching a class—showing off how well my own dog and I could do the exercises—and so was Cisco.

I wrapped the knee myself in an elastic bandage and limped around the house for another half hour or so, working out the stiffness. In the summer months, agility class starts at eight a.m. to avoid the heat of the day, which can be dangerous for both dogs and humans when they’re running and jumping full speed. I have an air-conditioned indoor training room which I sometimes use for beginning students, but it’s too small to set up a sequence class. Besides, running outdoors is a lot more fun, for both dogs and the people. It was clear, however, that I would not be running very far today.

By the time I got to the kennel at seven a.m., Corny was already there, scooping out kibble into stainless steel bowls in the kitchen. The kennels had of course been cleaned and most of the dogs were enjoying the morning air in their outdoor runs. I stopped at the door to the kitchen, staring at him, and he turned quickly, bubbling over with apology and enthusiasm. “Oh, Miss Stockton, I know I’m not supposed to start until ten, but I noticed on the schedule that you’re teaching a class this morning, and I thought if I got here early and took care of the kennel I might be able to watch? Only if it’s okay with you, of course. I mean, I’m not trying to run up my hours, this is completely on me, it would just mean so much to be able to see in person how you work.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer, because I was frantically trying to remember whether, when I had searched my purse for the second time last night, the little gold miniature Schnauzer pin had been there. I had put it in my purse before I left for the hospital. But I hadn’t seen it after Buck returned my purse to me. What kind of thief would ignore credit cards and cash in favor of a little gold dog pin?

Obviously, the same kind of thief who would put a transmitter in a dog’s collar and then steal my purse to get it back.

At my continued silence, Corny added anxiously, “Unless I’d be in the way.” Then, “Of course I’d be in the way, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just get these dogs fed …”

“No,” I said, “no, it’s okay. You’re welcome to watch a class any time. Not a problem.” Then I added, forcing a quick smile, “Nice hat.”

He stood there beaming, a stainless steel bowl of kibble in each hand, his fuzzy orange hair poking out on either side from beneath the baseball cap that was covered with gold dog pins. He said, “My grandfather collected the pins, one for each breed he put a championship on.”

“Wow,” I said. “Impressive. Looks like there’s one for just about every breed there.”

“Just about,” he agreed cheerfully.

Except the one for the miniature schnauzer
, I thought, because try as I would, I did not see the little schnauzer pin on his hat. I added casually, “Did you find the employment papers I left for you last night? I put them in your coat pocket so you wouldn’t forget.”

Something flickered across his eyes, but it was too quick, and too subtle, for me to define. “Thanks,” he said, and gestured toward the door with one of the dog bowls. “I guess I’d better start serving breakfast.”

I moved out of his way and the alarm in his face was genuine as he noticed my stiff movements and bandaged knee. “Oh no! Are you hurt?”

I shrugged it off. “A hazard of the profession. I’ll tell you what, though. I’m all for saving steps today, so why don’t I fill the bowls and you can distribute them?”

“Absolutely,” he assured me. “Whatever you need. You can count on me.”

I smiled. “I know I can, Corny.” I made my way over to the counter and picked up the list of boarders with special meal requirements while Corny hurried toward the door. “Oh, by the way,” I added over my shoulder, as though it were of no importance whatsoever. “Did you happen to go up to the house yesterday while I was gone?”

He turned and looked at me, wide-eyed. “What, your house? No, of course not. Why would I do that?”

I shrugged, pretending to study the list. “It must’ve been one of the girls, then. I just wanted to mention that if you ever need anything from the house the back door is almost always unlocked during the day. I don’t mind if you go in. Just let me know.”

“Oh,” he seemed puzzled. “Okay.”

“Oh,” I added, still very casually, “I keep forgetting to mention that the police will probably want to talk to you about what you saw at the campground the other night.”

I was certain I did not imagine the flicker of alarm in his eyes. “Police? Me?”

“You know, about seeing Cameo and her owner get into the car.”

“Oh.” He still looked worried, but then the prospect of being interviewed by the police didn’t usually fill anyone’s heart with joy. “Well, yes, of course. Whatever I can do to help.”

He walked on down the corridor with the two bowls in hand, and I thought his step was a little less carefree than before.

Clearly, I needed to work on my interrogation technique. My father used to say that the only way to get the right answers is to ask the right questions. The problem with that, however, is that there is a very real danger of finding out something you don’t want to know. Corny was not only the best employee I’d ever had, he was very likely the best employee
anyone
had ever had. The man had come in four hours early, off the clock, and was doing extra work just so that he could watch me teach an agility class, for heaven’s sake. I’d be crazy to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

Wouldn’t I?

~*~

Nothing starts the day off right like watching a class filled with really talented dogs doing their very best for their handlers, and I have to admit the agility students that Saturday morning outdid themselves. Corny stood on the sidelines, as delighted as a kid at the circus, occasionally bursting into spontaneous applause when a dog completed a particularly tricky sequence. I knew how he felt. I myself have been moved to cheers and applause when Cisco finished a difficult serpentine jump pattern or followed a blind cross into the tunnel. It’s an exciting game.

Every time a dog knocked over a bar Corny would dart forward to replace it, saving me the effort of doing so, and then race quickly back out of the way; the perfect assistant. Afterwards he pelted me with questions about training techniques and the rules of the game which I was more than happy to answer. I love teaching, and who doesn’t have a soft spot for someone who is fascinated by what she does best?

Moreover, by the end of the second class my knee had limbered up and I was moving almost normally, so it was turning out to be a good morning. I even brought Pepper down from the house and let her demonstrate how to cross the puppy A-frame, which seemed to cheer her up considerably. Like her young handler, Pepper liked to be the center of attention, and Cisco had not exactly been making her feel special lately.

Happy dogs and tired handlers were making for their cars by 10:00 a.m. when I dashed back to the house to check on the other dogs. I had left Pepper in the day care room with a Boston terrier and two longhaired dachshunds—and Marilee, of course, who’d shown up only five minutes late. The rest of the pack greeted me with their usual outrageous enthusiasm, claws scrambling, butts wiggling, happy breaths panting, and even Cameo pushed her way forward for a greeting. But they all knew Pepper was having fun and they weren’t, and they made it pretty clear that there would be a mutiny if I left them alone in the house again.

“All right, all right, guys.” I couldn’t help laughing as I bent to scratch ears and chins and kiss wet noses. “We’re going to play, I promise.”

But before we did, I had to check on one thing. I got my purse from its hook by the door and sat down at the kitchen table. I turned the bag upside down and let the contents spill out onto the checked placemat before me: wallet, keys, pickup bags, clicker. My phone was in my pocket. I unzipped all the pockets and shook the bag. A tube of lipstick and a roll of breath mints hit the table, but nothing else. I went through my wallet, just in case I’d misremembered where I put the little dog pin. There were two quarters and eight pennies in the change pocket, forty-two dollars in bills, and that was all.

“Damn,” I whispered out loud, and Cisco, who had been trying to tempt Cameo with a stuffed squirrel, looked over at me curiously.

I sat back heavily, puzzled and defeated. Of course I didn’t want to believe that Corny had stolen my purse, even though he’d obviously lied about being in my house. I could have sworn the man who attacked me was bigger than Corny, but I knew victims’ memories in cases like this were often inaccurate. More importantly, it just didn’t make sense. Whoever took my purse was after both the transmitter and the schnauzer dog pin. But the transmitter I’d taken from Cameo’s collar had been lying around unsupervised on my desk all day yesterday; Corny could have easily taken it at any time if he’d wanted it. And if he had gone to all the trouble to steal the pin back, why hadn’t he put it on his hat? For that matter, why would he even wear the hat around me, knowing that I’d immediately recognize where the pin had come from? The whole thing was just crazy. But I couldn’t forget the alarm on his face when I’d mentioned the police, and what had he been doing in the park Tuesday night anyway? Was it possible Corny had been the last person to see April Madison alive?

He still hadn’t filled out the employment papers, and Buck had once told me that a surefire method for spotting a kid with a record was when they hesitated about filling out a job application. They didn’t want to answer the question, “Have you ever been arrested?”.

I was still sitting there, scowling at the contents of my purse, when the ringing of the phone made me jump. At first I instinctively reached for the cell phone in my pocket, and just as instinctively felt my heart skip a beat because it might have been Miles, or Melanie. I realized that the ringing phone was mounted on my kitchen wall at the same time I remembered how unlikely it was that Miles, or Melanie, would ever dial my number again.

“Raine,” said the male voice when I answered, “this is Marshall Becker, getting back to you with the information you wanted on that PI. I hope I’m not calling too early on a Saturday morning.”

It took me a moment to remember what information he was talking about, and when I did remember I almost told him I wasn’t interested. After all, what difference could it make now? I already knew who was behind the investigation, and chances were that, now that I was no longer in Miles and Melanie’s life, she would call it off. But curiosity got the better of me, as it almost always did, and I said, “Oh, right. Thanks. What did you find out?”

“The fellow operates out of Virginia,” said Marshall, and my attention quickened. “His name is Greg Sellers.”

I gasped out loud. “Greg Sellers?” April Madison’s ex-husband. The contact person on Cameo’s microchip registration. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what it says. Why? Do you know him?”

“Um …” My thoughts were spinning. “No. Not really. It’s just that his name came up in connection with a lost dog I’m fostering.”

“Well,” said Marshall, “that’s good news, isn’t it? The guy probably wasn’t interested in you at all, just looking for his dog.”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “Yeah, maybe. Is there a telephone number? The one I had was disconnected.”

“It may be the same one.” He read off the numbers and I copied them down quickly on the back of a grocery receipt I pulled from the trash.

“Thanks, Marshall,” I said. “I appreciate you going to all this trouble.”

“Nice to know a lady with flexible opinions. Yesterday you said it was an invasion of privacy.”

“Oh.” I could barely remember what he was talking about. “Right. Well, it was for a good cause, I guess.”

He chuckled. “See you at the fair later?”

“Probably.”

“Maybe I’ll buy you a corn dog.”

“Okay, “I agreed absently, “maybe.”

He chuckled again and said good-bye. I cradled the receiver and stood for a moment staring at the telephone number on the back of the receipt. Then I picked up the phone again and dialed. I was surprised when it actually rang through, and surmised—or more accurately, hoped—it was his cell phone.