To Catch a Treat (20 page)

I had to know. I had to get more involved.

Nothing might come of it but some wasted time and energy.

But it wouldn't hurt to try.

I visited Sweetie first, determining that, despite how well she
was being cared for, I'd make sure she found a new home soon.

I then enjoyed meeting all four of the new residents, even as my mind percolated around the idea the latest drop-off had planted there.

thirty

This really was absurd,
I thought the next afternoon. And a real waste of time.

Even if Tim had dropped some dogs off here twice, in just a few days, that didn't mean he ever would do it again. Or that he'd do it around the same hour as before, near four o'clock. Or, even
if
he was going to do it at the same time and in the same place again, that he'd do it today.

More likely, with the recent news reports suggestive of possible police interest, he would simply run away. With dogs? Without them?

In either event, thinking that he'd drop any dogs off today in the late afternoon at Mountaintop Rescue was a stretch.

Even so, I'd called Billi earlier and suggested that she give Chief Loretta the information about the two drop-offs directly, so Loretta could have an undercover cop or two hang out in their unmarked cars in this area to wait and observe, just in case. And maybe assign them to try it every day until it actually occurred, or for a week, whichever happened first.

Unless they got actual evidence that Tim had fled.

When Billi got back to me, though, she was really doubtful the chief would divert resources this way even for one day, despite the fact the suggestion was phrased that she might find a possible killer this way, not just a dognapper.

And now that I was here in that capacity—undercover, more or less, just hanging out in my car near the back of Mountaintop Rescue—I'd seen no indication that anyone else was around doing something similar.

But what the heck? Maybe it was a stupid maneuver, but here I was. I'd stick it out, at least for today. And if nothing happened, would I try again in a day or so? That would depend on my state of mind, and if there were any other options I thought of for tracking Tim.

I really wanted those dogs rescued safely.

I'd left Frida and Vicky in charge of the shops for the afternoon. They both had enough experience to keep things going well till my return.

I didn't tell my assistants where I was going, but I did make it clear that it was important, and, although I should be back to close up the shops, they should do so on time if I wasn't there. If that was the case, I requested that one of them take Biscuit for a quick walk, then return her to her nice, roomy crate to wait for me. And give her a couple of treats, of course. But one way or another, I'd be back there tonight, and it shouldn't be very late.

So now I just sat here. Despite my instructions to my helpers, I didn't really anticipate staying for much more than an hour. Well, maybe two. That should give me time to return to my shops and close them myself. Plus, I'd brought a bag of treats from the Barkery to bring into Mountaintop Rescue before I left, but I hadn't taken them inside yet because I didn't want Billi or Mimi or anyone else there to know what I was doing.

Being foolish, most likely.

My smart phone was in its charger beside me, but since the car engine wasn't turned on, I doubted it was getting any juice. I had a notepad with me, though, and was occasionally jotting down some ideas for additional treats.

Mostly, though, I just watched the alley at the rear of Mountaintop Rescue. The four parking spaces behind the wooden fence were filled. The chain-link gate was closed and undoubtedly locked from the inside. There really wasn't anything to see.

And not much to keep me awake, especially considering how tired I was that day …

I must have nodded off, but I was awakened by the sound of a car door slamming shut. I jumped in my seat, glad that I'd slumped a little. If anyone happened to notice my probably illegally parked car across the alley from the shelter, they were unlikely to see that someone sat in the driver's seat.

I carefully raised my head barely enough to look out—just in time to see Tim Smith or whatever his name was jump back into a silver SUV, the same car I'd seen him in before.

Yay! My instinct, foolish as it had seemed—or had it been desperation?—had been correct!

Tim wasn't looking my direction, which was a good thing. I sprang up in the seat so I could check out the area behind the shelter.

Sure enough, a couple of dogs were on the ground there. The bad thing was that they weren't leashed, so they might run away. But a bowl of food was in front of them, so at least they were preoccupied—for now.

First thing? I pulled my phone from the console and pressed in the Mountaintop Rescue phone number. Billi answered.

“Don't ask any questions,” I ordered, “but have whoever's closest to your rear alley come outside and pick up the latest dogs who were just dropped off. Got it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good. I'll explain later.” Like, possibly way later, when all this was done.

By then, Tim had driven to the end of the block along the alley. That was good. I didn't want him to notice me, so I couldn't speed after him. Instead, I waited to see which way he turned—praying he wouldn't go so fast that I wouldn't see him when I could turn the corner, too.

He went right. Trusting that Billi would do as I'd said and have someone take in the loose dogs, I started to follow, using my phone again. This time I called the Knobcone Heights Police Department—not 911, since even though I considered this a kind of emergency, they probably wouldn't. Chief Jonas was busy. Could she call me back? So were Detectives Bridget Morana and Wayne Crunoll. I left a voicemail for Detective Morana, since she was in charge of both of them.

“I'm following Tim Smith,” I said. “He just dropped some dogs off outside Mountaintop Rescue, and I'm hoping to see where he keeps the rest. I'll call you again when we reach whatever his destination is, and you can catch up with us then and maybe even question him about a certain murder.”

I smiled grimly to myself, imagining what the detective's reaction would be. Would she ignore my message? Think of some imaginary crime I was committing by this action so she could arrest me and forget about Tim Smith being a much more likely murder suspect than Janelle?

By that point, I'd reached the corner where Tim had turned and made the same turn myself. The streets were as busy as they usually were in Knobcone Heights but I could see he was heading west along Hill Street, in the direction of the resort and lake.

Would the cops ignore me? Maybe not, but could I count on them?

I'd already made the decision to let Garvy Grant in on some stuff that I'd learned that the police might be following up on—or not. If nothing else, Garvy could provide some kind of belt-and-suspenders help here. With his assignment regarding the stolen dogs, I could at least assume he wouldn't ignore this possibility of finding them.

I called him, and he answered immediately. “Hi, Carrie,” he said. “I don't have anything new to report yet, but I'm following up on what we—”

“I'm the one with something new to report,” I told him. “Where are you?”

“In Blue Jay, learning what I can about those two houses you mentioned.”

“Well, I'm in Knobcone Heights and I'm currently in my car following Tim in his.”

“What! Where are you? Where is he going?”

“I don't know, but he just left some dogs at the shelter and he's heading toward the lake now.”

“Okay, continue to follow him but check in with me every few minutes. I'll catch up with you as soon as I can. Don't do anything foolish like confronting him if he stops, though.”

“I won't.” Or at least I didn't intend to.

But I wasn't really sure how to play this. Instead of turning toward the resort as we reached that area, Tim turned left, as if he intended to drive around the lake. Was he heading to Ada's family's house on the other side? I hadn't seen much of her parents lately and had no idea whether they were still around. Had he moved in there after leaving the place in Blue Jay—with or without the Arnists being home?

I couldn't drive too close to him. I wanted to continue to appear like any other driver in town who had a destination in mind—one they knew about, not an amorphous idea about wherever the guy in front of me ended up.

I considered pulling over. Stopping. I'd already reported to the police, as I should. If they failed to act on it, that at least would give Janelle's lawyer Ted an argument of some kind of police ineptitude and failure to follow up on possible evidence if they did decide to arrest her for Ada's murder, wouldn't it?

But clearing Janelle wasn't my job, even if I wanted things to work out well for her.

The thing was, I also wanted things to work out well for the dogs. Would Tim keep dropping them off a couple at a time at the shelter—and, if so, would someone there always notice and bring them safely inside? Or were those I'd seen today the last of them—or the last he'd kept alive?

That wasn't my responsibility either, but I'd never forgive myself if there was some way I could have saved canine lives but stopped trying too soon.

I didn't need to get too close to Tim or do anything foolish. But I did need to know a lot more about the dog situation.

Fortunately, other cars were going the same direction so I doubted Tim would realize I was after him. At least I hoped not.

He reached the end of the straight road on this side of the lake and although this wasn't the same trail we'd hiked with Neal, the streets here paralleled the foot paths. He turned the corner that circled the end of the lake, as did most of the cars in front of me.

There was a stop sign at that part of the main street, too, so it took a short while for me to turn after him. But then I didn't see him ahead of me on the street.

The road here, curving around the end of the lake at water level, was surrounded by woodlands, unlike the straight parts of the road on the sides of the lake, where there was development. In the spot where the resort was located, the street was on top of a hill, with sloped pavement at both ends. I continued forward on the curving flatland, assuming I would see Tim's car along the far side.

But once I'd finished the turn and was again on a straight road, I no longer saw him.

Where had he gone?

I pulled off onto one of the streets that went up the mountainside on this side of the lake so I could turn around and go back. What should I do now? I sat there for a few minutes pondering, knowing that if I didn't hurry—somewhere—Tim might get away.

The question was, where should I go?

He'd probably already gotten away. Had he figured out he was being followed?

Could I still follow him somehow?

I'd passed a two-lane, semi-paved street where the main road curved at the end of the lake—the only other street I'd seen there. It had appeared to lead even farther into the woods. My mind started to focus on it, assuming he'd pulled off there. But had he?

Not having any other ideas, I decided to give it a try, so that was where I headed.
Good thing it'll stay light out for a while
, I thought as I curved back into the woods, since the overhanging trees were thick and blocked the sun. On the other hand, the automatic lights on my car went on and I considered shutting them off, so as to be less obvious on this route. I didn't, though. I turned onto the small road. Since there was some pavement—albeit narrow and cracked—other cars must go this way, too. Sometimes, at least. Hopefully, this particular one wouldn't startle Tim.

I had to go pretty slowly. Soon, I began passing some wooden cabins on both sides. A few looked in good condition and even occupied, probably vacation homes of normal people, not the elites who bought properties around Billi's place or the Arnists'. Others I didn't think looked so good; there were more of those as I continued on the road. Then they became even more sparse, but I still had no idea where Tim had driven. Had I been mistaken?

Maybe I should go back.

But I'd kept my window open in hopes that I'd hear a dog or two to indicate I was on the right path—and just then, I did.

I consequently kept inching forward.

The road curved a little, and as I went around what passed for a corner, I saw a dilapidated chain-link fence with parts of the top curved over. Beyond it was a wooden hut, maybe the most decrepit of the shacks I'd already passed.

There was a driveway of sorts, a good thing, since I could turn around.

But as I got a little closer, two things prevented me from leaving.

First, there were several dogs near the shack inside the fence.

Second, two cars were parked on the far side of the fence, and one looked like Tim's.

So what should I do next?

First, I tried calling Detective Bridget Morana again, but I had to leave a message. I kept my voice low, as if Tim, presumably inside the house, could hear me. “I think I found Tim Smith,” I said. “I followed him to a distant cabin in the woods and there are dogs here as well as his car.” I described how I'd gotten here.

Would she follow up? Send Detective Crunoll? Ignore me?

Just in case, and also because I'd promised, my next call was to Garvy. Unlike the detective, he answered. I told him basically the same thing I'd left in my message.

“You're inside your car?” he demanded.

“That's right.”

I expected him to tell me to stay here and out of sight. Instead, this time, he said, “Be very careful, but I'd suggest you show Tim you're there. Tell him help is on the way so he'd better not harm any of the dogs. Do you have any kind of weapon with you?”

Who, me? A bakery owner and vet tech? “Unfortunately, no,” I said.

“Well, from what you've described, there's no water nearby so he's not likely to try to drown you like Ada. I'm in my car headed toward you, and now I'll know where to go.”

Again I anticipated he'd tell me to wait, until his arrival at least. “Good,” I said. “Any idea how long?”

“Not really. Go ahead and do as I said—carefully, of course. Nonconfrontationally, but let him know he's been found so he can't harm the dogs. Can you handle it?”