To Catch a Treat (17 page)

“For you to use your authority to find out,” I told her. “A delivery driver had stopped at the house to drop off a package of food, but, when no one was there, he apparently called his office and asked about a forwarding address over the phone—the lady heard that part, but not where—and then he drove off. She only heard that it was in Knobcone Heights. I'd imagine the delivery company has the new address.”

“And you didn't follow up to obtain it?” Ah, the sarcasm was back.

“If I could have, I would have,” I assured her with a smile. “But since I couldn't, I figured I'd give you the information so you could check it out officially.”

“Good call.” She paused. “I don't have time right now, but I'll get Sergeant Himura to meet with you and take your statement.”

“Fine.” The sergeant hadn't been especially friendly before, but I felt fairly certain he'd be at least civil once under orders from his superior officer to get information from me.

Chief Loretta rose, so I did the same. I was surprised when she said, “And thanks for coming and following up on this.”

“You're welcome. Anything to help find and rescue those dogs.” I turned to walk toward the door, then pivoted back to look at Loretta. “By the way, how's Jellybean?”

The police chief had stopped scowling but her expression had remained serious, until now. Her facial features softened considerably as she smiled. “She's fine. I'll stop by your shop one of these days to pick up some healthy treats for her.”

“I'll give you some free samples of the healthiest,” I said. Then, with a wave, I walked out her door.

twenty-six

I waited in the
station's fortunately roomy reception area for about five minutes, watching civilians like me line up at the desk to talk to someone, or move away from the growing line to wait, until my good pal Sergeant Himura came in. He showed me through a door and down a lengthy hallway into a small conference room, then waved me toward a seat at a rectangular metallic table. I complied.

He took another seat facing me, his expression even blanker than when he'd first taken my report. My prior wish that I wouldn't have to deal with him again had clearly not come true.

On the other hand, he acted all business, not nasty, even if he wasn't especially welcoming.

“I understand you have some new information that might lead to the whereabouts of an alleged friend of the decedent Ada Arnist, as well as to some allegedly stolen dogs.”

“Yes. We discussed some of this before.”

“Right. So tell me what this new information is.” I was surprised he didn't use the word “alleged” before information.

I related to him, briefly, what I'd told Loretta about going to the now-empty house and talking with the nice neighbor. “I'd imagine you can get a warrant or whatever to require the delivery company to provide you with the forwarding address, right?”

“Possibly. In any case, thank you for bringing this to our attention.”

Did the guy ever smile? He stood and immediately gestured toward the door.

Once again I complied, as much because I didn't want to stay in his presence as because I wanted to obey his silent order.

I wished, though, that there was some way to get him to contact me once he got the forwarding address, even if he couldn't pass the specific information along to me. Or else to let me know if he wasn't able to obtain it, which I doubted.

But I couldn't even feel sure there would be the promised follow-up. The police chief and sergeant might just be placating the concerned citizen who was sticking her nose into not one but two crimes that were, from their viewpoint, none of her business.

As we reached the door to the hallway, I said to the cop, “No, thank you for your help. And all those poor people whose beloved dogs were stolen will undoubtedly line up to thank you even more, if you're able to find this guy and he actually does have all the missing pets.” I didn't mention that this police force might get additional kudos in the event the dog thief also happened to be Ada Arnist's murderer, and they captured him and found some evidence against him, too.

As I walked out of the station and toward my stores, I started pondering how I could, in fact, obtain the information I wanted about whether the police actually did follow up or not. And, if they did, what they learned.

Sergeant Himura, it was true, wasn't a good pal. But someone who was truly a good pal might be able to get all the details I wanted—and also make sure that there was, in fact, some follow-up.

While I walked, I called her: Councilwoman Billi Matlock.

But Billi didn't answer her phone right away. She might have been conducting a class at her day spa, or showing people around Mountaintop Rescue—or, better yet, handling an adoption of a needy pet.

She could also be in the middle of a City Council meeting of some sort.

Or she could be busy with none of the above.

I soon reached my shops and hurried into the Barkery to let Biscuit know I was back and take her for a walk.

Janelle was the assistant present in the Barkery. I considered telling her what I'd been up to, since it could wind up helping her if anything came of it. But she was busy waiting on customers, so this wasn't a good time. Besides, I'd said things before that might have raised her hopes without merit.

I'd stay quiet this time.

I went into the kitchen since we were getting a little low on some of our favorite dog treats, including our dog cookies with spaniel faces that had long ears—really cute, if I did say so myself. And tasty, even for humans who tried them.

Besides, baking right now would give me time to think.

I was glad I had a call pending with Billi. Would her assistance and input be enough?

I'd have to see.

Billi called me back at lunchtime. She was at her Robust Retreat giving classes that day and was finally on a break.

I was in Icing when I heard my phone ring. Fortunately, Janelle hadn't left for lunch yet, although Dinah had. I was able to slip into the kitchen and close the door of my tiny office behind me.

I'd already said hi to Billi and asked her to wait for a minute so we could talk. “All good,” I finally said. “Are you wearing your councilwoman's hat? I've got some stuff I want to run by you.”

“Hmmm. Official and important, I gather.”

“You gather correctly.” Holding my phone tightly against my ear, I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my tiny desk. My longish hair spilled forward a bit, and I brushed its blond waves back out of my eyes. I wanted to be able to see as well as concentrate.

But I didn't really have to concentrate yet. “Can it wait for tonight, for us to discuss it over dinner?” Billi asked. “I was thinking about trying out a new veggie pasta sauce recipe anyway, and that way we can have some quiet time, which I gather would be a good thing if you've locked yourself in your office.”

“That's fine,” I said. “Is Biscuit invited?”

“Of course. Come on by at six thirty after you've closed your shops.”

I had a shift at the clinic that afternoon, a good thing to distract me from my impossible desire to stomp back to the police station and ask the sergeant or chief if they'd followed up and finally gotten a local address. And, hopefully, saved the dogs. And arrested Tim Whatever-his-name-was for Ada's murder, so that no one would bother Janelle about it again.

But I heard nothing about any of that, and it was all unlikely. So, after I left Biscuit with busy Faye and her assistants in doggy daycare, I changed my clothes and was immediately found by Reed, who commandeered my presence in one of the examination rooms. He did manage to look me in the eye and give a quick nod and smile, but I knew he was preoccupied with the medical emergency we were about to deal with.

It was an older cat, who'd apparently lost her grip and fallen out of a tree. Fortunately, although she'd gotten some very deep and potentially dangerous scratches, x-rays didn't show any broken bones or damaged organs. I shaved around her wounds and helped to stitch her up. The good part was when her owner, as senior a human as she was a cat, was invited back into the room to see her.

“She'll need to stay here for a day or two,” Reed told the lady, “but it looks as if she'll be fine.”

Tears rolled down the woman's cheeks, and she hugged first Reed, then me. I held the kitty gingerly as I walked her down the hall to our hospital holding area, letting her owner follow to see the crate where she'd remain for observation and to stay and talk to her for a few minutes. An extra bit of soothing love never hurt.

I worked with Arvie on a couple much more minor cases the rest of my shift, from a large and not very well-trained wolfhound who needed shots to a Chihuahua requiring flea treatment.

As I eventually was getting ready to leave, I changed back into my normal clothes and strolled the hall for just a minute, looking for Reed. I found Yolanda first, and my fellow vet tech, fortunately, was in a good mood that day.

“That kitty, is she okay now?” Yolanda asked, raising her brows in concern.

“She should be just fine with some rest and TLC,” I said.

Yolanda popped into a different exam room just as Reed exited another. “Good job with our cat patient,” I told him.

“You, too. In fact, I owe you,” Reed said.

“It was my job,” I replied. “And my pleasure.” I grinned at him and basked in his responding smile.

“Well, join me for dinner anyway. We maybe should work out a standing dinner date, every night? Every other night?”

Did this mean we were getting even more serious? Or was it just because we enjoyed talking as we ate and, sometimes, what happened afterward?

In any event, I had to decline this time. “Sorry,” I said, meaning it despite my eagerness to get together with someone else that night. “I like the idea, but I'm having dinner with Billi tonight.” I considered inviting Reed to join us, but that wouldn't be a great idea since I had something specific to discuss with the City Councilwoman. “Rain check?”

“Or non-rain kind of check this time. Either way, let's plan on it tomorrow.”

I agreed, and considered getting close enough to exchange a little cheek kiss, but then recognized how unprofessional that would be here.

“See you tomorrow,” I said, heading toward the door to doggy daycare.

Biscuit and I set off on our walk back to the stores. My little dog pranced happily and stopped to sniff every few feet, which was often her norm. I'd been told she'd played a lot with a couple of other dogs her size that afternoon, so all in all this had been a good day for her.

For me, too
, I thought, recalling the now-healing cat.

As we waited to cross the street from the town square to the block where my shops were, my phone rang. I removed it from my pocket. Garvy.

If my discussion with Billi tonight turned out to be unproductive, Garvy still remained my last resort. But for now, I didn't need to tell him anything.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi. Are you at your stores?”

“No, but almost. I just ended a shift at the vet clinic.”

“Anything new and exciting there today?”

If I was guessing correctly, he just wanted to touch base with me. Was he flirting, or did he have some other agenda?

Since I'd learned he was a PI, I suspected he didn't do much without having a rationale for it.

Although maybe just being friendly was enough of a rationale.

“Absolutely,” I said, answering his question. I told him proudly about how a vet and I had saved an injured cat's life.

I could almost hear him yawning, but he let me continue until I reached the Barkery's front door. Then, while peering inside and smiling at the number of customers we had, I said, “How about you? Have you had a good day today? Found any dogs or clues?”
And will you really keep me informed
?

“Still working on it,” he said. “Anyway, I've got plans tonight but I want to catch up with you. Maybe tomorrow?”

“I've got plans both nights,” I said, glad I did. “We can talk next week.” Then I said goodbye, and Biscuit and I went inside.

It was early afternoon by now. Go remained leashed to Biscuit's enclosure, and Janelle still staffed the Barkery but she looked stressed.

Had the cops used the opportunity to harass her yet again while I was out? Not that I was her protector. No, her attorney Ted took care of that. But the authorities knew I'd give them as hard a time as possible if I happened to be around.

Janelle was waiting on a customer with a golden retriever as I came in. The owner was a local schoolteacher who'd been in here often, and I greeted her warmly and caught Janelle's eye. She nodded, so I knew she'd already given them a sample treat.

I let Biscuit greet the golden, and Go, and then gently urged her behind the fence of her large crate. I watched while Janelle finished helping the customer, deciding not to interrupt to ask if she wanted me to take over. That might lead to more stress.

As soon as the teacher and her dog departed with their large bag of treats, I approached Janelle. “Everything okay?” I asked in a low voice.

She shook her head vehemently. “No. Those detectives? They called and want me to come to the station
again
tomorrow. I didn't gather they have anything new to discuss, so I figure they just want to harass me, maybe scare me enough into confessing something. But before you ask, yes, I'm bringing my lawyer with me every time.”

“And I'll be with her as much as I can, too.” That was Delma, who had just entered from Icing. She had a half-eaten large sugar cookie in her hand. Apparently she hadn't brought Shobie along. “This just isn't right, the way they're treating Janelle.” Her scowl distorted her entire face, making her curved lips reach nearly to that snub nose that seemed to dominate all.

“They should put their efforts more into figuring out where all those other dogs went.” Janelle dashed over and gave her Go a huge hug. “If they found them, maybe they'd also know who killed Ada—maybe that Tim guy, who was at least her friend if not her boyfriend.”

“You're absolutely right.” Delma nodded and regarded Janelle with a staunch smile on her face now. “They should get Tim. Arrest him for murder. Since he's on the run, that's got to be a sign of his guilt. And maybe once they find him at least some of the missing dogs could be brought home to the people who love them.”

Should I tell them what little I now knew: that I'd at least given the cops a possible way to track down Tim, and thereby maybe also locate the rest of the stolen dogs?

And that I was hoping, by talking to Billi at dinner tonight, that if the police weren't doing anything, the City Council or even the media might be able to shame them into it?

But again, I didn't want to impart hope to Janelle before I knew that the authorities were actually doing something with the information I'd given them.

“I agree,” was all I said.

The Barkery bells over the door chimed behind me and I turned. More customers!

And no more time for this discussion now.

I only hoped that, within the next day or so, there'd be some major action along the lines we'd been talking about.

The dogs would be found.

And Janelle would be safe.