Drool Baby (A Dog Park Mystery) (Lia Anderson Dog Park Mysteries) (22 page)

The park was empty except for Terry at the far end. He was still in a walking cast, and couldn't drive. He must be waiting for Donna to pick him up.

As far as Terry knew, his accident had been the result of his own carelessness. He wasn't aware of Peter's suspicion that it had been staged. She
remembered something she'd seen on television on a cop show. They said that when you have a string of connected events, and one of those events broke
pattern, that event is the most likely to reveal something.

The other events involved meticulous planning, likely over a period of time. But Terry had only decided the day before to work on his roof. If Terry's fall was staged, and not an accident, this must have been a crime of opportunity spurred by his determination to find the source of the gun that killed Luthor. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to talk to Terry again.

"Hail," Terry called out as she approached.

"Hey, Terry. Chewy! Off! No jumping on Terry's cast! Sorry about that, he's such a brat."

"Not a problem. The limb in question is impervious."

"How's the leg?"

"Getting better. I should have this thing off next week."

"That's great news. You must be getting tired of having people drive you everywhere."

"Indeed, that I am, though the conk on the noggin is causing more problems."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. What is it doing to you?"

"Headaches, fatigue. Sometimes I can't concentrate, and the brain doesn't process as fast as it used to. Short term memory problems. It's quite annoying."

"I'm so sorry. What do the doctors say?"

"Bah! They want to put me on anti-depressants. Damn Liberal medical schools think everyone should be on anti-depressants. I'm not depressed, I'm concussed!
So far I'm holding out. They have no idea when or if this is going away. Don't know why I should listen to doctors who can't tell me what to expect."

"That sounds awful."

"They say the best thing I can do for myself is keep from going crazy while I wait for it to heal. Could be six months, could be two years, could be
never."

"So what have you been doing?"

"Watching movies, sleeping, reading sometimes, but that's hard these days. I do Sudoku."

"That must be frustrating."

"It is, it is."

"Say, Terry, I was wondering, back then you were talking to a lot of people about the gun that killed Luthor."

"Guns don't kill. People kill. Did they ever decide if it was Catherine or Bailey?"

"It's still a mystery."

"Bizarre, that was."

"How so?" Lia asked.

"I thought I saw a Luger several years ago. I asked about it, but she said it was this odd brand of air pistol, a Schimmel. I don't see how I could have
made that mistake. Plastic has a distinctly different sheen from metal. I can't believe I didn't notice. That's neither here nor there. Even if it was a
Luger, I can't imagine her allowing Catherine to have access to it, and Bailey was not around the dog park long enough, she was a newcomer. She wouldn't
have known anything about it, I imagine."

Lia struggled to get a word in. "Who, Terry, who had the air pistol?"

"Didn't I say? It was Anna, of course. She said she got rid of it years ago, so, no matter."

Dammit, dammit, dammit. If it could have been anyone but Anna. Lia fretted. What to do? She helped Terry load Jackson and Napa into the back of his truck
when Donna arrived, then returned to the park to toss balls for Honey and Viola. The exercise loosened her up and the repetition was soothing.

If only there was a way to take Anna off the list entirely. Her phone interviews and Trees' report had revealed a life that was unexciting and perhaps
unfulfilled, but there was no evidence of anything evil.

If there were evidence of any kind, wouldn't it be in Anna's house? She'd been in Anna's house dozens of times, and even looked after CarGo once. She'd
never run across anything remotely weird.

What she'd really like was a peek in Marie's house. Marie was very private and no one that Lia knew had ever been inside her house. But that was a
pointless wish, Marie worked at home and how would she get in?

She could, however, get into Anna's. She still had a key. CarGo wouldn't mind her being there. She would be trespassing. It was a rotten thing to do to
Anna. But surely, if she was able to rest her mind, it would be a good thing?

Would she know evidence if she saw it? What would she look for? A day planner that said "kill Luthor" on the appropriate date? A detailed plan of some
sort? That seemed unlikely. But Bucky, if there was a Bucky, had visited Crystal Bridge. It had been a few months, so it was doubtful that it would still be in Bucky's browser history. But browser windows had an autofill function. If she went to Anna's computer and started to type in the URL, wouldn't the rest of it pop up if
she'd been there? And that wouldn't involve ransacking Anna's house, just turning on her computer. It wouldn't be the same as rifling through her
underwear. And it would be almost definitive whether Anna was innocent or guilty.

Should she tell Peter or Jim? No, they would be dead-set against it. Her mind made up, she tossed the dogs into her Volvo and drove home. She continued
thinking while she made herself carrot juice for lunch.

Anna usually worked half-days, in the afternoon, but her schedule could change. So she'd call Anna
at work on some pretext to make sure she was there. Should she dress in black? What an idiotic thought. But a hoodie wasn't a bad idea.

Lia parked around the corner, put on sunglasses and pulled up her hood. She pulled out her cell, looked up Anna's work number on the contact list and
hit send.

"Lieberman Foundation, Anna speaking,"

"Anna, it's Lia." Lia's palms were sweaty and her voice sounded stilted and too cheery to her own ears.

"What a nice surprise. I missed you at the park this morning. Were you in the woods with Asia?"

"Yes, when we came out, Terry was the only one there."

"Waiting for Donna, I imagine. So what's up?"

"You remember that recipe for liver treats you told me about?"

"Yes, of course. What about it?"

"Can you tell me the recipe again? I forgot to write it down and I'm at the grocery store, I thought I would pick up the ingredients, that is if you
remember." Lia winced. She sounded idiotic, like she was in tenth grade and asking some boy to a Sadie Hawkins Day dance.

"Certainly. One pound of beef liver and a box of Jiffy cornbread mix. You puree the liver in your blender and add enough water to combine well with the
cornbread mix. Pour it into a greased pan and cook about 30 minutes at 350 degrees. Let it cool in the oven. You can use two cups of flour instead of the
mix, and you can also add two teaspoons of garlic powder. If you want a grain-free snack, you can use yam flour instead. I get that at Francis International, that's around the corner from you. And don't forget to freeze anything you can't use in a week. Is that all you wanted?"

Lia didn't bother listening, she'd already used the recipe several times and had it committed to memory. "Yeah, that was it. See you tomorrow."

"You take care."

"You too."

Lia pressed 'end' on her phone. It was now or never. She took the key to Anna's house from the dashboard cubby and gripped it tightly. She checked her hood
and left the car. Too much walking today, she was starting to favor the sprained ankle. Forcing herself to walk normally, she proceeded up the street to
the nondescript 1950's brick house where Anna lived.

She felt jittery, as if a thousand eyes were watching her as she turned the key in the lock, which was silly since overgrown yews hid the porch from view.

She entered the living room. It was a grandmotherly sort of living room, with traditional furniture in varying shades of beige. The only spot of color was
a blue pansy Lia had painted for Anna a few years earlier. There was a fireplace with Rookwood tiles that had been converted to gas. On the mantel were
pictures of Jim, Anna and Lia at the park. CarGo was a black and tan lump on the floor. He had a tan corduroy dog bed that filled the corner in front of a
set of bookshelves. He lifted his head when he saw Lia and thumped his tail.

"Good CarGo. Look what I have for you." She patted his head and pulled a pig's ear out of the pocket of her hoodie. CarGo would make short work of it but
it would at least keep him busy long enough for her to examine Anna's computer.

Anna had converted the dining room into a home office. Lia sat at the desk and turned on Anna's monitor. She reached down to the HP tower sitting on the
floor and pressed the power button. As she waited for it to boot up, the house was silent and overloud, with the humming of the refrigerator and the sound
of CarGo gnawing his pig's ear.

The system whirred and chimed. Lia double clicked the Firefox icon. She clicked on the browser history. Nothing interesting, just the Lieberman Foundation
and a number of educational web sites, LL Bean and Amazon. She clicked the nav bar and keyed in "c", "r", "y", and "s". Nothing. She continued to type out
"crystal bridge" and no links appeared. She heaved a sigh of relief. Just to be sure, she navigated to the Crystal Bridge site and clicked on "forum."
Normally, an autofill function would add user log in information. Nothing. The blanks remained empty. She took a quick look through the computer's
directory. There were no files referring to guns, drowning or psychotropic medicines. She clicked on Anna's picture album, and by this time she was feeling
creepy for digging through Anna's files. She scanned the thumbnails, many pictures of CarGo and other dogs and dog park regulars. Some scenes from a fall
drive. Pictures from a Caribbean cruise she'd taken, when Lia had babysat CarGo. Some photos from Lieberman Foundation events. No staring corpses, no
bloody knives. The creepiest photos there was a snapshot of an aging lounge lizard on the cruise with his arm around Anna. Anna had told her all about "Mr.
Hands" and his inexplicable determination to hook up with her.

So very normal. Lia snorted. She didn't know what that feeling of alarm was during her session with Asia, but it was apparently baseless. The business with
the gun a coincidence. She checked the clock. 2:07 p.m. Time to go. She'd been there for more than 20 minutes. She shut down the computer and walked over
to CarGo and scratched behind his ears. "No harm done, right?" She asked the big dog. "You won't tell on me will you?" CarGo twitched his eyebrows and
continued to gum the pig's ear.

Peter loved the smell of roasted garlic on fresh pizza. He loved it almost as much as he loved living with Lia, temporary though the arrangement might be.
Which was why he was currently enjoying the aroma of an extra large Edgar Allan Poe from Dewy's Pizza as he drove to Lia's. Domesticity suited him. Sure,
their hours didn't quite match, and her place was a bit cramped, especially with three dogs. And she ate some pretty weird stuff, like sprouted sunflower
seed pate rolled up in sea weed and kale juice with lemon. But she was sweet and funny and beautiful and warm and a welcome change from a fruitless and
frustrating day attempting to track down the shooter nobody wanted to admit they saw.

He opened the door to find Lia lying on the sofa face down, one arm draped over the side, her hand twined in Honey's fur as Honey mimicked Lia's pose on
the floor. The pizza mocked him as his vision of a pleasant, homey evening dissolved, wafting away on the aroma of roasted garlic. He walked into the
kitchen and placed the pizza on top of the fridge, having learned from his last experience that Honey was an expert counter surfer. He went back into the
living room and perched on the edge of the sofa and placed a hand on her back.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know how to tell you," she mumbled into the cushions. "I'm afraid you'll get mad and yell."

"Did you kill anyone?"

"No."

"Then we're probably okay. Will pizza fix it?"

She turned her head and eyed him suspiciously. "What kind?"

"I thought there was only one kind in this house."

She sat up. "Pizza first. Then if you decide to yell at me, I'll be fortified."

They ate in silence, tossing crusts to the dogs. When the last slice was gone, Peter closed the box and set it aside. He braced his elbows on his knees and
looked at her expectantly.

"I don't know where to start," she said.

"The beginning is always a good place."

Lia took a deep breath, sighed it out. "I saw Asia this morning. She wanted to help me remember why I was so upset when I went into the woods the day
Bailey threatened to kill me. So she hypnotized me."

Peter raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"I remembered having this conversation with Anna. It upset me because she thought I should be happy that Catherine and Luthor were dead."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this before?"

"I forgot all about it when Bailey stuck my own gun to my head."

"Okay, I can see that."

"So then I saw Terry and I was talking to him about the gun, the one that killed Luthor, and he said he would have sworn Anna had an old Luger, but she
said it was just an air pistol."

Peter mentally smacked himself on the forehead. Terry had tried to tell him months ago, but he's been preoccupied and missed it. "Okay, then what?" He had
a feeling he wasn't going to like what came next.

"I knew you would say that put Anna at the top of the list and I couldn't stand it so I thought I could find out for sure."

This alarmed Peter. "Lia! What did you do?"

"I knew you'd yell."

"Sorry. What did you do?" he asked again, gently.

"I have a key to Anna's. She gave it to me when I took care of CarGo once. So I went to her house while she was at work.

Peter mentally took a deep breath. It would do no good to yell right now, even though he thought Lia was expecting it. "Why did you go to Anna's house?" he
asked, as calmly as he could.