Silence Is Golden (A Pet Psychic Mystery No. 3) (5 page)

I gave him a thankful smile as I handed him his purchase. "Well, you're definitely not one of them, Mr. Keller. You have yourself a great day, now."

CHAPTER SEVEN

It wasn't difficult to find Eugene's house again. As the cab pulled up, I thought about the night Victoria died and how I had sat in the driveway while Will notified Eugene that his wife wouldn't be coming home. My skin warmed at the thought of Will. He acted so tough sometimes, but the man had secret stores of compassion it was a real privilege to witness.

"Can you wait here, please?" I scooted out of the back of the cab. "I should only be a minute."

I hurried to the front porch of the two-story, yellow stucco place and rang the bell. Eugene answered the door. I had only viewed him from a distance before. Close up, he looked like a wreck. His eyes were puffy and his pupils were dilated like maybe he was on something. His already pale German features were positively ghostly. All my visions of giving him a piece of my mind faded away. No need to beat a man when he's this down. As he motioned for me to come in, I stepped into the foyer and offered him a small smile of sympathy instead.

"I'm so sorry for the loss of your wife, Mr. Roth. I can't imagine how devastated you must be."

"Thanks. You have no idea." He choked and then closed his eyes to compose himself. "Goldie is upstairs under the bed." He motioned for me to follow him to the grand stairway. His gait was still impeded, like he was moving in slow motion. Probably still in shock. Okay, maybe Goldie was better off somewhere else. He clearly was barely taking care of himself. "It's where she used to hide from thunderstorms and fireworks. I tried all of her favorite treats. Nothing will coax her out."

He led me upstairs and then down a hall to a cavernous master bedroom. A king-sized brass bed, covered in a gold silk comforter and piles of large pillows, ate up a good chunk of space, but there was still room for two large dressers and a wardrobe closet. Matching gold silk curtains hung on the windows. I removed my flip flops before stepping from the Mexican tile onto the plush cream carpeting. I detected the same scent of lilacs that I had received from Goldie, only it was faded here.
So, it was Victoria's perfume Goldie smelled and not a clue to the killer? Good to know.

A black and white framed photo of Goldie and a smiling woman sat on the nightstand. I picked it up. "Your wife?"

 "Yes."

"She was real pretty."  My heart squeezed with sadness. Okay, let's get this over with. "Goldie, sweetie?" I called, kneeling down to peer under the bed. Yep, she was there. No heavy panting, just sad eyes uninterested in me being there. No tail wag. No movement. "Oh, girl." I sighed. She obviously wasn't going to come out on her own, and I wasn't about to drag her out. This was going to take some time and maybe even some magick.

I glanced up at Eugene, leaning against the doorframe like the wall was holding him upright. "Mr. Roth, I think this is going to take some time to get her out. Would you mind telling the cab driver he can go? I'll just call another one when we get her out."

He nodded, seemingly relieved to have something to do. "Of course. I'll just leave you to it. I'll be in my office downstairs then. Good luck." He moved away, and I collapsed onto the carpet, staring at Goldie. I slipped my arm slowly under the bed and held one of her paws. She didn't jerk it away, which was good. Of course, it could be she just didn't care. That was bad.

I lay there for a few minutes, just holding her paw, whispering to her. No change. All right, time for a little help.

Rising and padding across the room, I flipped on the light switch to the attached bathroom and glanced around. A spa that could have held ten people or one small elephant dominated the room. Gold fixtures gleamed from it and the double sinks set in the marble countertop. White fur rugs kept bare feet protected from the cold tile. Kneeling down, I opened the cabinet under one of the sinks. I needed a container. Weaved baskets held bucket loads of creams, foundations, eye-shadows, lipstick and various other types of make-up. Good grief, Victoria must have loved her cosmetics. I moved to the second cabinet.

Three-tier glass shelves had been placed inside. On the shelves sat a collection of nail polish and stick-on nails that would have rivaled a store. Another basket held packages of silk pantyhose and sheer stockings. I felt my face grow hot. There had to be something inappropriate about viewing a deceased woman's private things. I was about to close the cabinet when behind the basket, a jar of hair-ties caught my eye. I pulled it out. Glass. Perfect. I dumped the hair-ties out onto the counter and filled the jar with water.  It wasn't my chalice, tuned to my personal vibration, but it would do.

I carried the jar back to the bedroom and sat cross-legged on the carpet with it in my lap. Closing my eyes, I began to breathe deeply, following my breath in and out of my body until I felt myself seated in the center of my being. From here, I could reach out to the water, my own energy like an arm extending into the water molecules, exciting them, changing them. Water had magical properties all its own and since living beings were mostly water, it was a great healing tool.

I concentrated on infusing feelings of love and well-being into the water molecules. This hadn't ever been one of my strongest talents, and I was a bit rusty. I could almost feel Grandma Winter's disappointment in me. I shook it off. Let it go. I began to feel my concentration waver. I forced it back to the task at hand. Time ticked by, but I had no idea how much.

I blinked as the lilac smell of the room and the solidness of the floor beneath me returned. Darn. I wasn't finished, but I was drained so this would have to be good enough.

Scooting down on my belly, I slid under the bed, being careful not to spill the water.

"Hey there, Goldie," I whispered. She moved her eyes to me but didn't lift her muzzle from the carpet. "I need you to drink this for me. It'll make you feel better." I hoped.

 I dipped a finger in the water and held it in front of her nose. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed it. I waited. If she didn't take it, I could resort to rubbing it on her gums, but she wouldn't get enough that way. Not as weak as this water was. "Come on, sweetie. You can do it." Goldie's tongue slid out, and I felt the warm sandpaper-like sensation as she licked my finger. "Good girl." I moved the jar in front of her and tilted it so the water sat at the edge of the lip. "Good girl. Have a drink. Go on." She dipped her tongue in the jar and then began lapping at the water. I felt the knots in my body relax. "That's a girl, Goldie. I knew you were a fighter."

I stroked her fur and hummed as I waited for the water to take effect. I had rested my head on my hand and was feeling exhaustion tug at me when Goldie began to stir. She lifted her head and then placed a paw on my arm. Definitely the highlight of my day.

 "Well, hello. There you are, girl." I smiled into her eyes. They didn't quite sparkle but she was at least present now and watching me.  "What do you say we get out of here?" I began to scoot back. "Come on." I paused when only my head remained under the bed. "Good girl," I whispered. "Come on, it's time to go. Your mom isn't coming back here. I'm sorry." Her ears twitched and she stretched out a paw to me, then the other one. As I encouraged her, she scooted on her belly until she emerged from the bed. Standing, she shook her whole body and stared at me, ears down. I kneeled and wrapped my arms around her, letting her rest her head on my shoulder. "Okay." I nodded, swiping at a stray tear. "Let's go home." Dumping the water into the sink, I replaced the hair-ties and the jar.

"Mr. Roth?" I called after descending the stairs. Goldie stood beside me, glued to my leg.

Eugene emerged from a room somewhere to the left. "Oh, you got her out, I see."

"Yes." I rested a hand protectively on her head. "I've called a cab."

"Right." He glanced at Goldie. "She seems to like you. I'm glad. Victoria—" he choked on her name and cleared his throat. "She is... was really important to my wife. She would be happy to know Goldie is in good hands." He sniffed and held out a hand. "Please, make yourself comfortable in the living room while you wait."

I followed him around to a sunken living area with overstuffed leather couches.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, thank you." I sat down and Goldie sat with me, leaning hard against my leg.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have a bag for you. Goldie's toothbrush, favorite toys and other things. Be right back."

I was drained. Resting my chin on the hand that wasn't stroking Goldie, I scanned the magazines on the coffee table. It was funny how much you could tell about a person from what they chose to read. Eugene hadn't gotten rid of Victoria's magazines obviously. That must be the hardest thing to do when a loved one is gone... throw out the personal things that belonged to them, that could remind you of them. There was The Canine Chronicle, Dog Fancy, The Retriever Journal. "You definitely were the center of your mom's world," I whispered, scratching under Goldie's ear. There was also a Vogue, a Victoria Secrets Catalog, a Forbes and Smart Money.  Beneath the Smart Money there was a notebook sticking out, the handwriting on the top said: Biggest CD faux pas? CD on a budget?
Maybe Eugene's an accountant or investment banker? Yeah, that seems to fit him.

There was a honk outside.

"That'd be for us, girl, come on."

Eugene met us at the door with the bag of Goldie's belongings. He handed Goldie a stuffed alligator, which she took gently from him, her tail swishing a few times. His lip quivered. "That's Gator. Her favorite." Then he nodded. "Thank you, Miss Winters. My wife, she would be very grateful to you."

I felt a wave of heavy emotion wash over me as he shook my hand. I wanted to tell him he could visit Goldie at any time, but I knew he wouldn't take me up on the offer.

"You take care now," I said instead.

That night I tossed and turned, awoke in a sweat more than once after dreams of getting hit by a car.
Or were they memories?
I lay in the dark with my arm draped across Goldie, stroking her belly, unable to shake the images of the headlights or the feeling something was very wrong. As my hand brushed the shaved area of Goldie's body, I suddenly remembered our conversation in the boutique about the cutthroat world of dog shows.
What if the person did hit them on purpose? And what if they weren't trying to hurt Victoria... but Goldie?

CHAPTER EIGHT

 Two women approached the counter the next morning. One carried a plump, shivering
Chihuahua mix.

I smiled. "Hi, ladies, did you find everything all right?"

"Yes," the one holding the dog said. "And I was told you do birthday cakes for dogs? Do you have a catalog or something?"

"Sure do." I pulled the photo album from beneath the counter and handed it to her. "These are the standard cakes I've made, but if you had something in mind you don't see here, just ask."

She passed the dog off to her friend to flip through the book.

I didn't reach out and touch the shaking dog. I was feeling vulnerable and didn't need to expose myself to this little guy's angst. "What's your cutie's name?" I asked instead.

The woman held up his paw and waved it. He pulled his upper lip back in what I hoped was a smile. "This is Bandit. He's a real drama queen."

"Well, that's a perfect name for you." I chuckled at the dog as he snuck a lick at the woman's cheek. He had a black mask that did indeed make him look like a bandit.

"Oh, what do you think about this one, Bernice? It's a fire hydrant," Bandit's owner said.

"I think Bandit wouldn't know whether to eat it or pee on it."

She waved her friend off. "Well, I think it's perfect. I'll take that one."

"It is a favorite." I smiled as I found her an order form and pointed at the table by the window. "You can have a seat while you fill this out. Grab yourself a cup of tea and there's some human cookies over there, too."

"Go on, I've got Bandit," Bernice said, riffling through some of the items in the baskets with her free hand.

I moved out of the way as Charlie led an elderly woman up to the counter to ring up her purchases.

Charlie pushed a pink-streaked chunk of hair out of her eye. "Hey, Darwin, Mrs. Tilley's cat is recovering from surgery. We have something to help her with that, yes?"

"Sure do. Be right back." I grabbed a bottle of flower essence from the back, wrapped it in tissue paper and tucked it into Mrs. Tilley's bag. "No charge on that, Charlie," I whispered. "Now, Mrs. Tilley, just put a few drops on her throughout the day or you can put them in her water."

Mrs. Tilley's grin puffed up her cheeks which pushed up her glasses. "Thank you, dear."

I nodded as Bandit's owner approached the counter with the cake order form. "All done?"

"Yes." She handed me the order form. "I'll go ahead and pay for that now."

I waited until Charlie was done to enter her information into the computer. I read her delivery address. I wasn't familiar with that area.

"Twentieth Street? Which part of town is that?" I asked. If I wasn't familiar with it, I probably wouldn't be able to bike there. I'd have to take a taxi.