Rottweiler Rescue (23 page)

Dr. Hunsaker’s office confirmed that Sophie was stable, but that was all they really could tell me. If she didn’t take a turn for the worse, if infection didn’t set in — if, if, if — she might live to come home. I listened to my voice mail messages, and of course heard from Susan several times, eager as always, to know what I’d learned.

“You ought to call her,” said the lieutenant as he refilled my coffee cup. “The phone rang every ten or fifteen minutes starting at seven. She’s worried.”

There was no phone in my bedroom by design, but the kitchen phone must have been like an alarm clock for the lieutenant. Then again, how did he know the caller was “she” and why hadn’t the phone rung since I’d been up?

“You answered the phone and talked to Susan.”

“She’ll be here to pick you up about two. You can stay with her until you figure out what to do.”

I didn’t even want to contemplate the flak I was going to get from Susan over this. “Thank you so much for arranging my life for me, lieutenant. Aren’t you supposed to be at your office?”

He put a small bowl with cut up pieces of an orange and a plate with buttered toast and scrambled eggs in front of me and topped up my coffee cup. “You’re welcome, Ms. Brennan. And technically I’m off today, so where I have breakfast is up to me.”

“Don’t you think since you’ve slept with my dog, you could drop that Ms. Brennan business and call me Dianne?” I said, taking a bite of toast.

“The department frowns on getting too friendly with persons involved in active investigations.”

“You can’t keep being so formal when you’ve been my house guest — sort of. How about ‘Dianne’ when no one else with a badge is around?”

“All right, Dianne. And my first name is Brian, not lieutenant.”

“It’s a deal,” I said. “So what does being ‘technically’ off today mean?

“I usually go in anyway, and I will today — later. After you’re out of here. Susan says you need to bring crates for the dogs. Those metal cages over there are what you call a crates, right? How do they fit in a car?”

“They fold flat like suitcases.”

“Good. I’ll help you get that stuff ready to go.” He sat back down and folded up the paper. “It won’t be too long, you know. He’s escalating and that means he’s going to do something stupid and we’ll catch him. We just need to keep you safe until then.”

Looking into his serious face, I was again struck by his eyes — pale blue and a very natural pale blue at that. “Have you thought about contact lenses?” I told him what I’d found on the Internet about colored lenses. “Could you find out if any of the people who dealt with Jack wear contacts?”

“We can ask and hope they’ll feel obliged to answer, but we can’t get medical information without a warrant and sometimes not even then any more.”

I’d been thinking of the contacts as cosmetic, part of a disguise, but he was right, of course.

The thin ring of a cell phone sounded, and as Brian answered, I took my dishes to the washer and brought the coffee pot back to refill both our cups. The caller wanted Brian to do something, and he was resisting.

“I’m off today, and I’m coming in later anyway. If you need it now, get McNabb to do it,” he said.

The scowl on his face deepened. What he was hearing wasn’t making him happy. I found a pen in my purse and wrote in the margin of the newspaper. “Go. S here soon. Will stay locked in.”

Brian turned his frown on me, but said what the other end of the phone wanted to hear. “All right. I’ll be there in forty, forty-five minutes.... No, I’m not home. None of your business....”

As he folded the cell phone away, I couldn’t help but say, “Is that any way to talk to a superior officer?”

“He’s not superior. He’s a pain in the... never mind. You’ll leave with Susan and stay with her until we can come up with something better, right? You’re giving me your word.”

“Yes,” I said, meaning it. “Last night was just too much. For a while there I felt like....” I stopped and swallowed hard, unwilling to admit how close I’d come to falling to pieces. “I can’t take any more battering right now, but staying with Susan isn’t a real solution. I’m not going to bring this kind of violence on her and her family.”

“Today and tonight. Then we’ll figure something else out,” he said.

“Figure out a way to lure him into a trap. Maybe you could use a mannequin as bait. Paint it black and blue and no one will know it isn’t me.”

“If there aren’t any smart remarks coming out of its mouth, no one will be fooled,” he said, heading for the front door.

I stood in the doorway and watched him walk toward the car. As he opened the door, I called out. “Thank you. For everything. Thank you.”

When he was gone I went inside and locked the front door, then checked every door and window twice.

The problem was Susan didn’t show up by two. In fact she didn’t even call to explain her lateness until almost three, sounding breathless and harried.

“I’m so sorry. I was almost out the driveway when Wesley drove up. I’m sorry to make you wait, but it’s a good thing he caught me. That ex-wife of his dumped the children on him without warning again this morning, and he has an important appointment this afternoon.”

Since Wesley’s ex-wife was employed, and Wesley never was, her expectation that he would help out with his own children when her childcare arrangements failed seemed reasonable to me. Not only that, Wesley had never had an important appointment in his life. Even so, the inescapable fact was that today I was as guilty of using Susan as he was, and he was her son.

“I’ll call for a rental car. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no. I’m on my way now. I just have to get the children strapped in, and we’ll be on the road. The lieutenant told me what happened and that you shouldn’t drive. I’ll be there in a little while and you can tell me all about it then.”

Either Brian hadn’t told Susan very much, or the children really had her flustered. It wasn’t like her not to even ask about Sophie. I sat down to wait. Much more than a little while later, I heard a car in the drive and hurried to the door, then stared, wanting to disbelieve my eyes.

Susan wasn’t in the familiar maroon van she always drove, but in an ancient Chevy sedan trailing a haze of bluish exhaust behind it. I started out the door and met her halfway up the walk. She was as appalled at the sight of me as I was at the sight of the car. Her grandchildren were strapped in child seats in the back. If there was room in that car for two big dogs, crates, Bella in her carrier, and me, I didn’t see it.

“Where’s your van?” I asked, realizing the answer even as the words left my mouth.

“I
told
 you on the phone. Wesley needed it for his appointment. We’ll have to make two trips, but don’t worry, it won’t take long. The lieutenant told me you weren’t hurt, but you are. Is your arm broken? What
happened
?”

Maybe she had told me about the car on the phone. Wesley’s name often made me stop listening to the details of his current tale of woe. Right then Susan’s granddaughter spoke up. “Grandma, I need to go potty. Right now.”

“Me too,” echoed the little boy. “And I’m
hungry
.”

“Bring them in,” I said, getting over my initial frustration with the whole situation. “You’re right. Once we get started it won’t take long to get us all tucked in at your place.”

“Your lieutenant seemed to think it was very important you leave here as soon as possible,” said Susan, looking doubtful. Then she gave me a thoughtful look more like herself. “And what did you say he was doing here so early in the morning?”

“I didn’t. Bring the kids in and we’ll feed them, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Neither Millie nor Robo was child approved by Susan’s standards. They went out in the yard, and the children came in with us. As I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and poured milk, I told Susan what had happened to me on the way home from Feltzers’ the night before.

“I can’t believe you talked to Brian Forrester and he didn’t tell you any of this,” I said.

“Brian? Are you on a first name basis with him now? Did you find out if he’s married?”

“Susan.”

“He told me you were attacked again and you were in a car accident, but he said you weren’t badly hurt. He said he talked you into staying with me until they catch the killer. He didn’t mention your arm, or Sophie. What was he doing here....”

“He came to the accident scene and then to the vet clinic, and he brought me home. He was serving and protecting. His words. We didn’t get back here until the middle of the night, and he was going to sit out in his car in front of the house till morning. I talked him into spending the night on the couch.”

“Is he married?”

“Susan.”

“It never hurts to ask. Is he attractive?”

Was he? Sort of. Probably. “Not really,” I said to Susan. Then I started to tell her about my visits with Joyce Richerson and Myron Feltzer to distract her. I never got further than my first mention of how barren and dogless Joyce Richerson’s house was.

“It was just a day when they were doing heavy cleaning or something then,” said Susan with assurance. “Joyce always has several dogs in the house. Her older dogs are house dogs, and she rotates the others so they all get house time.”

“There was no sign of anything special going on. The house was absolutely sterile. No dog dishes, no dog beds, not a single dog hair. And the puppies were out in the kennel.”

“I don’t believe it.” Susan said almost angrily. Then more softly, “I don’t want to believe it. I sent people to her who were looking for a puppy when that last litter was born. I’d
never
send anyone to look at a litter that was kennel-raised.”

She pulled out her cell phone and started scrolling through her phonebook entries.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Calling Cassie Rayborne. She’s Joyce’s best friend and she’ll know the truth of what’s going on.”

Which was to say Susan didn’t believe me. I got busy putting the sandwich stuff away to keep from saying anything.

The children had finished their sandwiches and were starting to whine. I hobbled upstairs as fast as I could, got paper out of my printer and brought it down with pens and pencils of every color I could find.

They settled back down, covering the paper with scribbles and crumbs. The look on Susan’s face told me she wasn’t happy with the way her conversation was going.

As soon as Susan snapped her phone shut, I said, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Heaven help us, yes, you are,” said Susan unhappily. “It’s the husband. He can’t stand anything less than antiseptic cleanliness. And Joyce was so besotted she banished the dogs to the kennel before he even set foot in the house. Cassie says she thinks the real reason is he doesn’t like dogs.”

“How can that be?” I asked. “She met him in Germany when she was looking at dogs. How could she meet someone who doesn’t like dogs at a German kennel?”

“She didn’t meet him at a breeder’s,” Susan said. “She doesn’t spend all her time in Europe visiting breeders, you know. I think she met him at a ski resort. I remember that for a long time Cassie called him Joyce’s ski bunny.”

“So Erich could be who I’m looking for,” I said, feeling my pulse quicken.

“Cassie said he didn’t like dogs, not that he’s afraid of them. A ski bunny gigolo can’t be a murderer.”

Her primly disapproving tone made me smile. After considering a moment, Susan continued, her expression telling me she had learned something else that upset her.

“Cassie also says he hardly ever comes to shows with Joyce, but he was at the big show at the end of July, and a group of them went to dinner together.

The end of July was less than two weeks before Jack was killed. Susan was toying with a colored pencil, looking unwilling to continue.

“Come on, Susan,” I urged. “This is important.”

“It’s gossip. Cassie’s more than a little jealous of Joyce, and she was all too pleased to tell tales. Lord spare us from friends like that.” She made a face, got to her feet and ruffled the children’s hair. “You stay here and color while Ms. Brennan and I put her things in the car.” She picked up one of the crates I had folded and waiting.

“You leave the other crate for me and bring something lighter. We’ll load the car and then put the children in.”

Cassie’s gossip must be the kind that couldn’t be retold with young ears listening. I hoisted the other crate with my good arm and followed her outside.

Susan said nothing more about Erich until after we’d managed to maneuver the crates most of the way into the trunk of Wesley’s car.

“Heaven knows how much of this is true, so take it with a grain of salt,” she warned me. “I wouldn’t even repeat it except....” She paused and rummaged in the trunk for a minute, coming up with a length of dirty but strong cord.

“Except this will prove to you Erich isn’t the kind who would murder anyone, much less Jack. Here hold this closed.”

Obediently I held the trunk lid down over the crates while Susan tied it closed.

“There,” she said, brushing her hands off. “That will hold fine from here to my place. Anyway, as I said before, according to Cassie, Erich hardly ever goes to shows, which I guess is true, since I only met him once. And she says, whenever he does go, Joyce hardly ever lets him out of her sight.”

She headed back to the house and picked up my laptop computer and the small suitcase I’d packed, and took them to the car while I rounded up Bella and got her into her carrier. By the time I managed to get all my struggling cat’s legs through the door to her carrier at the same time, Susan was back. She carried Bella’s food and other supplies to the car, and I followed with my unhappy cat.

Back outside, Susan continued her story. “So at this dinner, Joyce got sick and went back to the motel but Erich stayed. Stayed, had a few drinks, and got pretty sociable.”

Myron Feltzer had mentioned something like this I remembered. Rather than say anything and distract Susan from her story, I finished positioning Bella on the floor in front of the front side passenger’s seat and looked up. “So then what happened?”

Susan had put the cat food, cat sand and box on the floor of the back seat where the children’s feet would dangle over them. I hoped their legs were too short to reach and kick a hole in the sack of kitty kibble.