Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow (25 page)

As he paced, Marcus’s forehead was so wrinkled that he looked like the Before in a Botox ad, and he kept running his fingers over his stubby dark-blond hair. “Can I get you anything?” I offered, always the polite hostess. “Coffee? A Coke?” A couple of Valium?

“I’m good.”

He looked anything
but
good. In fact, just watching him was making me tired. I sank into the upholstered chair. “Well, then,” I said, the little patience I still had fading fast. “What’s on your mind, Marcus?”

He finally stopped pacing and lowered himself onto the couch. Still, as he sat with his legs spread far apart, the right one jumped up and down nervously, prompting Max to venture over to investigate. Being a terrier, he felt quite comfortable with hyperactivity. “Popper, I’m about to tell you something that very few people know.” He paused. “Something about me. Something
personal.
”

The word set off alarms in my head. “Marcus, I really don’t think—”

“I’m about to turn forty.”

I involuntarily let out a sigh of relief.

“I know what you’re thinking: How could a guy as young-looking, as vital, as
sexy
as the Marc Man be hitting the big four-oh? But it’s true, Popper. I swear on my life.”

“Actually, I figured you were around that age,” I said matter-of-factly. “After all, you’d already been in practice for a couple of years back when I was just applying to vet school, so—”

“Let me tell you, it’s a sobering time in a person’s life,” he went on. I realized I needn’t have bothered to speak at all. “It makes you step back and reevaluate. I’m thinking that one day—not yet, but in the foreseeable future—I’m going to want to settle down. Maybe even have kids, a picket fence, an SUV, the whole Hallmarkcard thing.”

“That’s great, Marcus. You and the wife must have me over for a barbecue some time.” I still didn’t have the slightest idea where he was going with this. Hinting around for a surprise party? Campaigning for a really great birthday present?

“And, well, that makes a guy start thinking about the kind of woman he’d like to grow old with.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down so hard I suddenly remembered that Halloween was only a few weeks away.

Then, slowly, I started to get it. The sensation reminded me of waking up in the middle of the night because one of those leg cramps has begun gripping your calf. You can feel it happening in slow motion, and you know what’s coming, but even so there’s no way you can stop it....

“Marcus, what’s your point?” I demanded icily. And here I’d actually been wondering whether he was a Medium or a Large, just in case I decided to get him a T-shirt printed with a funny saying for his fortieth.

“I feel really bad about this,” he went on. “But I’ve got to tell somebody.” He drew in his breath sharply. “Popper, I want to believe Suzanne is innocent. I mean, she’s everything to me. I never believed anyone could get to me the way she has.”

He paused, swallowing hard as if something was stuck in his throat. I simply stared at him, hoping that something was. And that it would prove fatal. After all, you didn’t have to be a mind reader to see where Marcus was going with this.

It took everything I had to keep from picking up a large, heavy object and causing him physical harm.

“Marcus,” I said through clenched teeth, “if you know anything at all about Suzanne—if you have even an
inkling
of who she is—how could you think for even a nanosecond that she could possibly be capable of murder?”

“I know, I know. That’s what I keep telling myself. And I’m ninety-nine percent convinced she’s innocent. It’s just that there’s this one tiny little part of me that can’t help wondering. I mean, when you think about it, how well do any of us really know anybody? All you have to do is pick up a newspaper and you’ll read some story about a guy who everybody loved, some average Joe who went to work every day and played with his kids and coached Little League...and then it turns out that for the past ten years he’s been burying bodies underneath the rose garden.” He shook his head slowly. “My point is that even though I’m nuts about Suzanne, how can I really be sure she didn’t bump off her ex’s fiancée?”

By this point, I could barely contain myself. In fact, I’d begun thinking some pretty murderous thoughts myself.

“Marcus,” I said sharply, “I hope you have enough decency to keep your doubts to yourself, at least until Suzanne gets through this ordeal.”

He blinked, looking confused for a few seconds. I realized then that the idea of taking the high road hadn’t even occurred to him.

“She needs you,” I went on. “Right now she’s going through what’s undoubtedly the most difficult part of her entire life. And for whatever reason, you’re the person she’s chosen to be her life partner right now.”

“But—”

“Listen to me, Marcus!” I wagged a finger at him, hoping I looked like I meant what I was saying. “If you let her down, I will never forgive you. You have a job to do here. Even
you
have to recognize that! I don’t care what happens after this is all over. But for now, if you possess even a single strand of moral fiber, you will be there for Suzanne!”

He looked startled. But slowly a look of comprehension came over his face. “You’re right, Popper,” Marcus replied. “You’re absolutely one hundred percent on the money. And I’ll do it. Like you say, I’ll keep whatever doubts I may have to myself. I’ll be a—a rock.”

“Good,” I said with a nod. “I’m glad you get it.”

I only wished that, deep down, I believed he was capable of following through.

“Hey, I know her!” Nick exclaimed over breakfast the next morning, his face hidden behind the pages of
Newsday.
“Jessica Popper, DVM, Long Island’s favorite veterinarian.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” I mumbled, my mouth still half full of the English muffin that, along with a mug of coffee the size of a small bucket, constituted my own personal breakfast of champions. I was only three quarters awake, meaning one quarter of the cobwebs that had formed in my brain during the night still clouded my thought process. Besides, Nick wasn’t making himself particularly easy to understand, the way he was acting as if he’d just seen something about me in the newspaper—

“Give me that!” I cried, reaching across the table and grabbing the paper out of his hand. I scanned the lefthand page, not spotting any familiar-sounding reference in any of the three different columns that covered the page. Then I glanced at the right-hand page and nearly fell off my chair.

“Leaping lizards!” I yelped.

Poor Max, fearing his beloved mistress had just had something terrible happen to her—or was perhaps initiating some new game—jumped up, gently resting his two furry little paws on my thigh. He glanced at me quizzically, his eyes bright and his wet nose pulsing as if thinking,
Are you okay? Do you want to play? Do you have
any food for me?

Any of those possibilities would have been preferable to what had really made me cry out: a full-page advertisement for Channel 14 News.

GOT PETS? the headline read. THEN
PET PEOPLE
IS FOR YOU!

The ad went on to explain that Jessica Popper, DVM, Long Island’s favorite veterinarian, was debuting her new show,
Pet People,
on Friday morning at 10:00 A.M. There was even a photograph of me that looked a lot like the photo they’d insisted upon snapping on my way out in order to provide me with a Channel 14 ID card.

“Looks like you’re famous,” Nick commented, grinning.

“I hope Andy Warhol was right,” I replied, handing him back the paper. “About it only lasting fifteen minutes, I mean.”

“I don’t think Andy was talking about those of you who are lucky enough to possess star quality—not to mention your very own television show. Just think: you, Barbara Walters, Oprah, Tony Danza...Hey, you’re not going to throw me over for some boy toy, are you? A surfer dude who’s ten years younger...?”

I was in no mood for joking around. Not with enough butterflies suddenly gathering in my stomach that they’d actually become uncomfortably heavy. You wouldn’t think those light little wings could add up to much, but apparently they can.

Even Max had given up on me. Having decided that there was no food coming and no game of Slimytoy in the schedule, he’d returned to floor level. He now lay under the table, chewing on his hot-pink rubber poodle, no doubt luxuriating in the sound of its relentless squeaks.

“I don’t think that many people will see that, do you?” I asked Nick hopefully.

“Probably not,” he returned. “Especially since it’s right next to ‘Dear Abby,’ the gossip column, and today’s horoscopes. I mean, who looks at any of those?”

The butterflies were getting even heavier. I suddenly felt as if I was getting myself into more than I’d bargained for. To be honest, I’d been so focused on Suzanne’s plight that I hadn’t given much thought to the new TV show Forrester had gotten me involved in. I’d simply seen it as a way to help pet owners take better care of their animals. It had never occurred to me that I was in line to become the new Crocodile Hunter.

“Anybody home?” I heard Betty call from outside.

“Come in,” I yelled back, leaping out of my seat to let her in.

She beat me to it, poking her head inside. “Are you two busy? I don’t want to interrupt.”

“We’re behaving ourselves,” I assured her. “Want some coffee?”

“Thank you, Jessica, but I have no intention of disturbing you. I just wanted to congratulate you. You did see today’s
Newsday,
didn’t you?”

I cast Nick a wary look.

“I was checking my horoscope, the way I do every morning, and there it was,
your
picture and
your
name, plastered across this entire page....” She held up the ad, beaming. “I’m so proud of you, Jessica. And it’s such a thrill to know a real celebrity!”

“I’m sure nobody else bothers to check their horoscope,” Nick said, winking. “Even so, maybe you should get used to being famous. It looks like that’s what’s in your stars.”

He stood up and planted a chaste kiss on my head. “And now I must take leave of you lovely ladies. The Brookside University School of Law waits for no man— or woman, for that matter. I’m outta here.”

Once we were alone, Betty sat down in his seat and distractedly petted Lou, who had immediately lodged his head in her lap for that very purpose. “This is certainly a homey scene,” she commented. “It looks like your new living arrangements are working out well.”

“How about you?” I countered. “Are things blissful over at the Big House?”

I expected a glowing report of candlelight dinners and long sessions of doing the
New York Times
crossword puzzle together. Instead, Betty’s face crumpled.

“Jessica, the man is driving me absolutely crazy.”

I blinked in confusion. “Wait. We’re talking about Winston, right?”

“Who else? I’m absolutely beside myself! For one thing, he snores like a cartoon character. For another thing, he has the television on all the time. It’s tuned to the news, but even so, the constant noise is enough to give me a headache. And he has this exercise routine he insists on doing every single morning. I hear him huffing and puffing, sounding like he’s at death’s door. The first time, I picked up the phone and was ready to dial 911. And you should see my kitchen! It looks like one of those health-food stores that always smells so darned funny! He stocked it with brewer’s yeast and soy powder and heaven only knows what else....”

She sighed. “I’m set in my ways, Jessica. Maybe
too
set in my ways. But if that’s who I am, I’m not very likely to change. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m simply destined to live out the rest of my life alone.”

I opened my mouth, hoping some words of encouragement would magically make their way out. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t. I was hardly in a position to start singing the praises of cohabitation. Not when I’d practically sent Nick to live in his car the moment I was assaulted by his toothpaste collection.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked, sipping the last of my coffee.

“I thought it might be good for us to get away, so Winston and I—and Frederick, of course—are taking a little trip this weekend. It’s just for a few days. But I thought a romantic interlude—someplace far away from the television and the blender—might be precisely what we need. I found a bed-and-breakfast in Pennsylvania, right in the heart of Amish Country, that claims to be ‘rustic but charming.’ The autumn leaves should be beautiful, and I’m hoping that being in a new environment will allow us to concentrate on what we like about each other instead of the complications of day-to-day life.”

“Don’t tell me the honeymoon is already over,” I said woefully.

“More like a case of too much too soon.” Betty sighed. “I think I forgot that you can’t force intimacy, Jessica. It’s something that grows over time. I’m afraid that Winston and I have been so thrilled to find the closeness we’ve both been craving that we may have gotten carried away. For heaven’s sake, I’m sharing kitchen appliances with a man I’ve known for less than a month!”

I wasn’t quite sure that put her into the wild-and-crazy category, but I kept my observation to myself.

“Of course, you and Nick are an entirely different story,” she hastened to add. “You two have known each other for years. Even so, I thought you might enjoy house-sitting while Winston and I are away. It might be good for you to have a bit of a change yourselves.”

“That’s a great idea,” I agreed. “We can pretend we’re the lord and lady of the manor.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll get you a set of keys. And it would probably be a good idea for you to stop over so I can explain a few things about the hot water and some of the house’s other idiosyncrasies.”

“Sounds like fun, Betty. Thanks for thinking of us.”

As I stepped into the shower right after she left, I continued puzzling over the difficulties Betty was having as she pursued a deeper relationship with Winston, a man she’d only recently met. The way she’d put it was, “too much too soon.” I had to admit that I not only understood; I was having some of the same feelings myself.