Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow (43 page)

“I guess you’re telling the truth,” he told her. “You really did hear Simcox’s whole confession.”

“Well, of course I did!” Virginia said archly. “In fact, I was about to rush back to my own house to call the police myself when I heard that horrible commotion. First Dr. Popper yelling, then that nasty man screaming... then I heard Dr. Popper on her cell phone, calling 911. So I just stayed where I was, figuring I’d sneak back home once the coast was clear.”

“Mrs. Krupinski,” Falcone said wearily, “I’ll need you to come down to the station and make a formal statement.” Turning to me, he added, “You too, Dr. Popper.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Mrs. Krupinski, let me explain a couple things about what happens next...”

“Hey, Popper,” I heard someone behind me say, “I hear you wield a mean tree branch. You got a license to handle foliage?”

I turned to see Forrester grinning at me.

For a change, I was actually happy to see him, too. Funny what euphoria can do. “I actually have Beau to thank for getting me out of that one,” I told him. “Cassandra’s cat saved the day. And they say having a black cat cross your path is bad luck!”

“Hey, whatever it takes!”

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Falcone called me. An exciting new development like this warrants a trip out to the North Fork. Seems like the cops finally got their man.

“As for the courageous and ingenious Dr. Popper,” he went on breezily, “it looks like you’ve got another notch in your belt. One of these days, Falcone’s going to have to put you on the payroll.”

“Thanks, but I already have a job,” I replied. “Besides, I’ve had enough of murder investigations for a while.”

“This wasn’t exactly your average investigation,” he observed. “This time around, you saved your pal Suzanne’s butt.”

“And found out who really killed poor Cassandra.” I sighed. “So it wasn’t her adventurous life that killed her, after all,” I mused. “It was her desire to give it all up, once and for all, and do something meaningful with the rest of her life.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not in the stars for Theo Simcox,” Forrester observed. “Looks like he’s going to be trading a view of the vineyards for a view of the prison yard.”

“So he survived the fall onto the beach?” I asked.

“He’s tougher than he looks, especially since he snagged his pant leg on a shrub, which slowed him down. That paramedic over there told me he broke his leg and smashed a couple of ribs but that he’s fine otherwise. Certainly in good enough shape to stand trial.”

Forrester and I headed to the front of Cassandra Thorndike’s house, then stood together and watched the parade of vehicles go by. First, the ambulance carrying Theo Simcox off to the hospital, his leg in a splint and his hands in cuffs. Next, Lieutenant Falcone, speeding off in his dark-blue Crown Victoria, his jaw set firmly and his expression hard. Finally, a blue-and-white Norfolk County police car with Virginia Krupinski sitting in back, her eyes bright as she talked the ear off the officer who was driving.

It was over. By that point, I couldn’t tell if I felt exhilarated or just exhausted. But one thing was clear: I suddenly couldn’t wait to call Nick and tell him what had happened.

However, there was something else I needed to do first.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I told Forrester, “I have an important phone call to make.”

I couldn’t help grinning as, for the second time in less than half an hour, I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my cell phone. Only this time, I punched in Suzanne’s number.

“I’ve thrown my share of parties,” I told Nick. “But finding Cassandra’s killer and clearing Suzanne’s name has got to be one of the best reasons ever for a celebration.”

I glanced around my small cottage, which I’d decorated with so many crepe-paper streamers I felt like I was hosting a school dance. I guess I’d gotten kind of carried away in terms of the bouquets of flowers too, but I figured this was one of those special occasions when there was no such thing as over the top.

The same went for the food. Even though the impromptu little gathering I’d thrown together had only a small, select guest list, I’d decided not to skimp.

“Definitely cause for a celebration,” Nick agreed. “And nothing says ‘party’ like ice cream. In fact, I’ve got enough here for an entire summer camp.” He began unpacking the three brown-paper shopping bags he’d just lugged in from the car. “Five—count ’em,
five—
flavors of Ben & Jerry’s. And nuts, sprinkles, chocolate syrup...”

Okay, so Nick and I hadn’t really lost our taste for sweets, despite learning that at least one well-regarded pastry chef had his hand in a lot more than pastry dough. And indulging in build-it-yourself ice cream sundaes seemed like the ideal theme for a Saturday afternoon get-together.

“Are we too early?” Betty called gaily, peeking through my open front door. She was wearing a strapless red satin party dress that hugged every curve and carrying a big white bakery box. Winston was right behind her, decked out in a yellow-and-white polka-dot bow tie that made him look extremely spiffy.

“You’re right on time,” I told them as Max and Lou skidded across the room to welcome them officially, falling over each other like clowns.

“I suppose that explains why the guest of honor is right behind us,” Winston commented, patting Lou on the head even though the Dalmatian suddenly seemed much more interested in sniffing whatever was in Betty’s bakery box than in cementing friendships.

“Suzanne?” I called.

“Jessie!” Suzanne exclaimed. She charged inside and immediately threw her arms around me. From the way she collapsed against me, I couldn’t tell if she was hugging me or just needed a way to keep from falling over.

“How can I begin to thank you?” she cried breathlessly once she finally let go. “There’s so much I want to say to you! First of all—”

And then she burst into tears.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I assured her, grinning and squeezing her shoulders. “I feel the exact same way.”

Betty glanced around. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours? Marcus, isn’t that his name?”

Kicking myself for forgetting to brief Betty, I glanced at Suzanne nervously. Much to my relief, she made a face.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she said cheerfully, smiling through her tears. “That’s what my mom used to say, and she was right.” More to herself than to us, she added, “The same goes for Robert, too. I am
so
over him.”

“Here’s another old saying,” Betty added. Her long, dangling earrings, strings of tiny red stones so brilliant they had to be rubies, swayed from side to side. “Men are like streetcars. If you miss one, there’ll be another one coming along soon.” She frowned. “Oh, dear. I suppose they don’t have streetcars anymore, do they?”

Leaning over, Nick said softly, “So good old Marcus really meant it when he dumped Suzanne at the lowest point in her life. He didn’t even give her the satisfaction of dumping
him
after she realized what a jerk he was.” Frowning, he added, “I guess what they say is true: When the going gets tough, the wimps take off.”

“I’m sure it was really hard on Suzanne at first,” I replied, “especially given his timing. But at least she finally saw him for what he is.”

“She definitely deserves better,” Nick agreed. “And she’ll find better.”

“How about finding the best,” I said, only half-teasing, “the way I did?”

“Dr. Popper?” I heard someone call through all the babble.

“Virginia!” I cried, pleased to see that she’d made it. And standing beside her—actually half-hidden behind her—was Maggie Rose. “Come in! You too, Maggie Rose. Thank you both so much for coming.”

“You have a cat,” Maggie Rose announced. She pointed at Cat, who had crept into the room to see what all the commotion was but was crouched underneath a chair, choosing to spectate rather than participate.

“I have two,” I informed her. “I have a feeling you’re really going to enjoy playing with the other one. She’s only a kitten. And she’s just about your size.”

At the moment, however, the little girl was too busy fighting off an affectionate Westie and a love-starved Dalmatian, both of them acting like it had been days, not mere seconds, since Winston had given them both a professional-caliber neck-scratching. It wasn’t long before their persistence became too much for her, forcing her to give in to their demands. Fortunately, she giggled all the way through.

I turned to Suzanne. “I’m really pleased to introduce these two people. They’re the ones you should be thanking. Suzanne, this is Virginia and this is Maggie Rose.”

“I’m really happy to meet you, Maggie Rose,” Suzanne said, crouching down so she was at eye level with her. “One of the reasons is that I understand you really like animals.”

Maggie Rose nodded earnestly. “I have a new cat. His name is Beau.”

“You’re so lucky. Cats are such great pets. But there’s definitely something to be said for dogs, don’t you think?”

Maggie Rose nodded wisely, meanwhile hugging Max, who, for a change, was acting like the teddy bear he so closely resembled.

“Tell you what,” Suzanne offered. “How about coming to my animal hospital sometime to play with some of the animals we’re taking care of while their owners are away on trips? Sometimes we have ferrets, guinea pigs... even cute little potbelly pigs.”

“Can I pet them?” Maggie Rose asked seriously, wanting to make sure she fully understood the deal before making a commitment. “
All
of them?”

“I’m sure there’s nothing they’d like more.”

Suzanne stood and turned to face Virginia. “I wish there was some way I could thank you, too.”

“Aw-w-w.” Virginia waved her hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve already gotten all the reward I need. There’s something to be said for making sure the bad guys get caught every once in a while.”

“My feelings exactly,” I said firmly.

I grabbed a spoon. If there was ever a time to splurge, this was it. After all, this was what I called a happy ending.

About the Author

CYNTHIA BAXTER is a native of Long Island, New York. She currently resides on the North Shore, where she is at work on the next
Reigning Cats & Dogs
mystery,
Right From
the Gecko,
which Bantam will publish in 2007. Visit her on the web at
www.cynthia
baxter.com
.

Dear Reader,

Hawaii is one of my absolute favorite places, which is why I decided to send Jessie there in her next
Reigning
Cats & Dogs
mystery, RIGHT FROM THE GECKO. While attending a veterinary conference on Maui, Jessie discovers there’s trouble in paradise, and she soon becomes embroiled in investigating a murder—only this time, she’s amidst graceful palm trees, dramatic waterfalls, and forbidding volcanic boulders.

But Hawaii also has special significance in Jessie’s life because that’s where Nick once “popped the question”—and she ran away faster than a gecko. Thanks to the pounding surf and breathtaking sunsets, Nick turns romantic once again...and Jessie can’t help wondering if he’s going to try one more time.

So find yourself a stretch of beach—or at least a hammock—and enjoy taking an adventurous Hawaiian vacation with Jessie and Nick!

Best wishes,

Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at

Cynthia Baxter’s
new
Reigning
Cats
&
Dogs
mystery,

RIGHT FROM THE GECKO,

coming from Bantam Books in 2007.

RIGHT FROM THE GECKO

A
Reigning Cats & Dogs
Mystery

by Cynthia Baxter

On sale in 2007

Governor Wickham,” one of the reporters called out, “Nan Higginson from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin. Have you made a decision yet about whether you’ll run for re-election in November?”

Flashing perfect teeth that were an orthodontist’s dream, he answered, “Let’s just say it’s not out of the question.”

The entire room trembled from the whistles and cheers that followed.

“Governor, what will your platform be if you do decide to run?” a woman clutching a KITV microphone asked.

The tall, silver-haired politician frowned for a moment as if he were giving her question careful consideration. And then, his eyes shining merrily, he replied, “That I’ll continue doing the same good work for the people of Hawaii that I’ve been doing all along!”

This guy must spend hours practicing in front of a mirror, I thought, shaking my head.

I’d suddenly had enough of politics. Shopping for aloha shirts was beginning to sound much more appealing. In fact, I’d just turned away from the action, intending to slink out of the ballroom to find Nick, when I noticed a tiny young woman with large blue eyes and short, spiky light brown hair that gave her a pixie-ish look. I would have thought she was a teenager who’d wandered into the wrong part of the hotel if it hadn’t been for the small tape recorder in her hand. I watched her make her way toward the governor with a fierce determination that reminded me of my terrier, Max. Especially when she planted herself directly in front of him.