Silence Is Golden (A Pet Psychic Mystery No. 3) (3 page)

"She had a wedding ring on. That's where I have to go now, to the address on her license and notify the husband." He glanced over at me. "You don't mind waiting in the car while I speak to him, do you?"

"I don't mind." I squeezed his hand. "I didn't know that was part of your job, too."

"Yeah, well, making a death notification is only the half of it. As the investigating detective I have to eliminate the husband as a suspect."

"A suspect? So, you think someone did this on purpose?"

Will shrugged. "There was no sign the driver tried to brake. But, that parking lot is tricky, looks like a road, so the driver could have mistaken it for one. Especially if they were impaired with drugs or alcohol. There was a witness, coming in to dock his boat. He said the driver seemed to be panicking, slipped and fell as she ran to check on the victim. Honestly, I'm thinking a drinking and driving accident. Maybe a tourist who didn't know the area. Or a boat owner. We'll be checking everyone who has a boat docked there."

I pushed up my sleeves, feeling flushed. "So, when the driver saw how bad this Victoria person was injured, they probably took off so they wouldn't go to jail?"

Will shrugged, turning the heater down. "Happens all the time. Witness said the driver seemed to go through the victim's backpack and then tossed it to the side. Maybe looking for an ID.  Or money. Who knows?"

I stared out the window. "That woman you were talking to, the one with dark hair, she seemed pretty upset. Was she family?"

"No, that was Jade Harjo, a good friend of the victim. She was actually meeting Mrs. Desoto-Roth there. She said Victoria was excited, that she had an artifact to give her from her uncle's collection after he recently passed. Ms. Harjo apparently helps get Native American artifacts into the museums. They were supposed to meet at Fresco's."

I frowned. "Did Victoria still have the artifact on her?"

"Yeah, we recovered it from her backpack, but it'll be logged as evidence for now so Ms. Harjo will have to wait to claim it."

Will was pulling into the circle drive of a very large stucco house a few miles from where Victoria died. He left the car running and sighed. "Be back."

"Good luck." I watched him make his way to the front door and couldn't help but feel a rush of love and respect for the man. I knew he'd gotten into the business of solving murders because he lost his older brother, Christopher, and no one was ever convicted for it. No family should have to go through that. But, it still took someone with a heart full of compassion to choose this kind of job. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell someone their wife had died, that's for sure.

I turned the heater up as I waited. My clothes were still damp, and I was suddenly very aware I reeked of wet dog. I couldn't wait to get home, take a hot bath and climb under the covers.

About fifteen minutes had gone by before a man emerged from the house, his head down, his gait uncertain, with Will tagging along behind him. The man was wiping at his nose with a handkerchief as he led Will around to the garage and opened the door. They disappeared inside the garage for just a moment. When they came back out, Will shook the man's hand and gave him a card.

"How'd it go?" I asked as Will slid back into the car, bringing a blast of cool night air in with him.

"He was pretty shaken up. They had an argument this morning, and he said they hadn't spoken before she left.  I can't imagine what it would be like to have your spouse leave the house and never return. Especially after a fight."

"Sounds like you don't think he had anything to do with her death? Even though he confessed to them fighting?"

"Nah. He said it was just him being stubborn, nothing big." Will shrugged. "Besides, according to the witness, the car that hit Victoria was a black sedan. The two cars in his garage were a white minivan and a yellow Miata. And the witness said the driver had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail." He smiled. "In case you didn't notice, Eugene Roth barely has enough hair to run a comb through."

Okay, now he was just teasing me. I decided to play along. "But he doesn't have an alibi."

Will chuckled. "This is true."

I held up my index finger dramatically. "And he has motive since he admitted to an argument. Or money is always a motive. That is a pretty big house." Will smirked at me and then moved his eyes back to the road.

"I know, I know," I held up my hands, "leave the detecting to the detectives."

He rested a hand on my knee. "Honestly, Darwin, all kidding aside, I've kind of gotten used to your particular brand of curiosity. I don't mind so much. In fact, your questions keep me thinking outside the box. But, in this case, I don't think there's any big plot to figure out. Just an unfortunate accident. Probably someone out there right now sobering up and quaking in their boots, wondering if they should turn themselves in. We'll still check to see who stood to gain the most from the victim's death, though."

I grinned, feeling warmth spread through me.
Was that acceptance?
"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

His blue eyes sparkled as he chuckled. "Well, that's kind of sad. I'll do better."

"You're doing fine." I leaned over and pressed a kiss on his warm cheek. Mmm. He smelled so good. Like a fresh rain. "Oh, did you tell him the good news about their dog? That she survived?"

"Yeah. He said Goldie was Victoria's pride and joy. I told him to contact the emergency clinic."

I nodded. "Good. One problem solved tonight at least. So, what now?"

"Now," Will grinned at me, "we get you home and out of those hair-covered clothes."

CHAPTER FOUR

I had just opened the door to Darwin's Pet Boutique to let in Sylvia's first grooming appointment when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

Pulling it out, I frowned then greeted our customer before answering it. "Morning Madeleine." I smiled at the well-dressed woman and her Labradoodle, Micah. "Sylvia will be right with you."

Then, I hurried to answer my phone, since pretty much only my family in Savannah, Frankie and Will called me on it.
Please don't let it be an emergency
.  "Hello?"

"Darwin Winters please."

"Speaking." I frowned, not recognizing the voice.

"Hi Darwin, this is Donna at Emergency Veterinary. You brought in an injured golden retriever last night?"

"Oh, yes, how is she?"

"She's doing better. All stitched up. We got her to eat a bite this morning and have her on a light sedative. She's still pretty traumatized."

"Can't blame her." I motioned to Sylvia her client was here. "Did Mr. Roth contact you to pick her up?"

"Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. He called us this morning and asked us to give Goldie back to the breeder."

I stopped in the middle of the aisle. "What? Why?"

"He said Goldie will remind him too much of his wife, and he's not coping well with her death as it is. They have a contract with Baywater Kennel that says Goldie has to go back to them, if for any reason they can no longer care for her."

"Oh." I was still trying to process what she was saying.
The dog has been through hell and now she isn't welcome back in her own home?
My face flushed.

"But, here's the thing. I talked to Linda, the lady who owns the kennel. Dr. Messing put in a good word for you, and so Linda is willing to do a home visit with you so you could adopt her."

Wa.. wa... wait... what?!

She took my silence as her cue to keep talking. "You know, So Goldie doesn't have to go back. After all, she's been through enough, right? She deserves a permanent home."

"Of course she does." I didn't really appreciate the guilt trip being laid on me, but I'd probably do the same thing if I were in her shoes. "She does deserve a home. But..."
Did I really have enough space in my life to give this traumatized dog the attention she deserved?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and counted to ten.
It would be nice to have a dog around again.
 "Okay. So, say I agree to adopt her, what's the next step?"

"Oh, yes, great question." I heard the relief in her voice. "Well, you can pick her up any time this afternoon. I'll give Linda your contact information, and she'll call you to set up the home visit. Shouldn't be any trouble at all. I just know you and Goldie will be a great match."

"Thanks. All right, I guess I'll see you this afternoon." I hung up. I supposed I was picking up the bill, too. Not that money was the issue. Abandoning a pet was.

I rang up a few early morning customers and then snuck back to talk to Sylvia. Leaning against the glass window that separated her grooming room from the main part of the boutique, I crossed my arms and watched her expertly trim Micah's nails as she spoke soothing Portuguese to him.

"Remember the golden retriever we found and took to the vet last night?"

Sylvia flicked a silky dark bang out of her eye, glancing at me. "
Si?
"

"When Charlie comes in this afternoon, I'm going to go pick her up. I'll be taking care of her for a bit." I wasn't ready to say I'd be keeping her.
There was a chance the home visit wouldn't turn out great. What if this Linda person thought I worked too much? Or wouldn't have enough time to exercise her? There could be any number of reasons she'd take her back. Goldie was a show dog. What if she wanted to keep her and show her?

Sylvia's brow shot up. "Because?"

"Her owner apparently can't. Reminds him too much of his late wife. So, she needs a place to go right now."

"
Aí não
, that is no good." Sylvia shook her head, flashing me a smile. "You were the child who brought home stray kittens, no?"

Kittens. Birds. Frogs. And once a litter of naked, pink, orphaned baby moles.

I sighed. "That would be me. What could I say though?  She's already had her world torn apart. And a posh world it was, apparently. She was a show dog."

"Well." She shrugged and patted the champagne-colored Labradoodle on his rump. "Now she will be a pet boutique dog. Not so bad a life."

I smiled. I loved Sylvia's optimism. "Not a bad life at all."
Unless I could find her a better home. Maybe she could still be a show dog for someone.

The steady flow of pet-loving snowbirds kept me busy enough that I didn't have time to think about Goldie again until Charlie came in at one o'clock. Charlie Nichols was a vet tech student at St. Pete College who we hired in December to make sure we could take a lunch break during tourist season. Especially after my sister, Mallory, went back home.

We had to work around Charlie's classes but she was great with the customers. If I had to describe Charlie in two words it would be dependable and colorful. She had pink hair, tattoo "sleeves", a silver stud in her left nostril and a heart bigger than the state of Texas. Her passion for helping animals was the thing that shone through and got her hired. It didn't hurt that she believed in the supernatural. I learned that from her interest in the flower essence.

 "Hey, Charlie." I greeted her as she shoved her bag under the counter. "How'd the anatomy test go?"

"Aced it." She held up her hand, and I gave her a high five.

"Good for you. I'd feel bad if working here was taking away from your study time." Not that she needed it. The more I got to know Charlie, the more I realized what a brilliant mind sat under those strange hats she was so fond of. I handed a regular customer her bag of homemade dog treats. She came in just about every day now to buy them with her chubby gray terrier.

"No worries." Turning back to me, Charlie adjusted her skull cap. Pink streaked hair stuck out around the edges. "Besides, a girl's gotta eat. I'd be living on ramen noodles if you guys hadn't hired me. Speakin' of... you need to go get some lunch. Go." She bumped me playfully with her hip. "I got it from here."

"All right. But, I'll be bringing back more than lunch today." I sighed as I grabbed my straw bag and sweater from under the counter. "Darwin's Pet Boutique is going to have a new mascot." Her eyebrow rose. "Long story," I added. Then I patted her arm and headed out to grab a taxi.

CHAPTER FIVE

Right before closing time, Frankie popped in the boutique with Itty and Bitty, her two Chihuahuas. Frankie's a former homeless lady who won the lottery and she's also one of my best friends here in St. Pete.

 Charlie was ringing up Sarah Applebaum, our last customer.

"Hey, Sarah and Charlie. Got some dessert here you gals are welcomed to," Frankie called.

"Thanks but no thanks. Trying to watch my figure." Sarah patted her plump hips. "Divorce is almost final, and I plan on jumping in the dating pool."

"I hear ya." Frankie dropped the box of goodies on the tea table by the window. "It's slim pickings out there, let me tell you. Just a bunch of crabs with too much baggage." Then she frowned at me. "You look tired, sugarplum. Rough day? Oh!" She spotted Goldie lying under the table, tongue hanging out, eyes searching the passersby relentlessly. "Hello. Who's this?"

I sighed. "This is Goldie. Long story short, Will and I were on the pirate ship for Mike's wedding Saturday night and we fished her out of the ocean. Poor thing's owner was hit by a car and killed while walking her down by the pier—"

"Shoot!" Frankie smacked the table. "I read about that in the paper. Victoria Desoto-Roth. I met her once at a fund raiser. So sad, she was a nice lady."

"Oh, Victoria?" Sarah shook her head as she loaded up her arms with her bagged purchases. "She was a real sweetheart. So tragic. This is her dog?"

"Yep. I'm keeping her for awhile. Maybe finding her a home so she can show again."

"But, Victoria was married," Frankie said. "What about her husband? Doesn't he want her?"

"No. He said Goldie just reminds him too much of his wife, and he's apparently devastated and can't handle seeing her. He wanted her given back to the kennel."