Doggie Day Care Murder (7 page)
Read Doggie Day Care Murder Online
Authors: Laurien Berenson
The previous day the office had been empty when I'd arrived in early afternoon. Mornings were a totally different story. Rush hour was in full swing.
“Goodness,” Alice said as we joined the back of the line waiting to check in. “You didn't mention this place was such a madhouse.”
A Springer Spaniel, an Airedale, and a Bichon Frise held the spots in front of us. All three of their owners, two men and a woman, were dressed for success. One of the men was tapping his toe while he waited. His dog, the Airedale, pounced repeatedly on the tip of the highly polished loafer as it rose and fell.
“Yesterday, it wasn't. I guess I wasn't here during a peak time. But this is good to know, especially if this is about the time when you plan to be dropping Berkley off. We should be sure to ask Steve how long a wait to expect on an average day.”
This time we'd called and made an appointment. Alice had spoken with the co-owner the previous afternoon, and he was expecting us. Indeed, as our wait to check in with Madison stretched from five minutes to ten, I was surprised that Steve didn't come looking for us.
A staff member entered the room through the back door to collect the Bichon. His owner handed over the leash and quickly disappeared. Dog and owner parted without much visible regret on either side. I figured that either boded well for the care offered by the facility or badly for the relationship between the Bichon and its owner.
The line inched forward. Now the Airedale's owner was leaning over the counter and talking to Madison.
Realizing that his owner's attention was occupied elsewhere, the big red-and-black terrier turned around and touched noses with the Springer behind him. The spaniel's owner was talking on her cell phone and paying no attention to her charge. The Springer wagged its stumpy tail.
An invitation had been offered and reciprocated. It didn't take a dog person to know what was going to happen next.
The Airedale lowered its front end to the ground, hindquarter high, thick tail whipping back and forth. The Springer jumped up on her hind legs, waving her front paws in the air. Dark eyes twinkling with mischief, the Airedale bounced up to join her.
The terrier was big and strong. His first leap snatched the leash out of his owner's hand. His second bound took him past the Springer and he landed on Alice's feet. She lost her balance and tumbled into me as the Springer in front of us whirled around to continue the game.
The spaniel's owner gave a little cry of distress. Her cell phone went flying.
I reached down and nabbed the Airedale's leash before he could make a run for it. The Springer's owner similarly tightened her grip.
“Cookie, settle down,” she said sternly as she retrieved her phone and tucked it into her purse.
“Good catch,” said the Airedale's owner. The man held out his hand and I placed the leash in it. “I hope Logan didn't hurt you?”
“No, we're fine.” I spoke for both of us. “Is it always this slow in here?”
“No,” he replied with a small frown. He had thin lips that were topped by a perfectly manicured moustache. “This is unusual. I don't know what's going on today.”
“Mr. Cavanaugh?” Madison said from behind the counter. “We're ready for Logan now.”
Another one of the kennel girls had appeared. Logan was delivered into her waiting hands and led away.
Another couple minutes passed while the procedure was repeated with the Springer Spaniel. By the time Alice and I reached the front of the line, we were the only ones left in the office. It was nearly eight-fifty.
“We have an appointment with Steve Pine,” Alice said to Madison. She sounded as impatient as I felt.
“Time?” the teenager inquired brightly.
“Twenty minutes ago,” I said. I didn't sound nearly as bright.
“Oh.”
She glanced over at the clock on the wall. “I don't know what's keeping Steve. He should have been out here by now. Either he or Candy usually does the morning check-ins, but I haven't seen either of them yet today. They must be here; I saw their cars when I pulled in. Let me call around for you and see what I can find out.”
That involved more waiting. Madison buzzed the offices, then the Dog House, then somebody's cell phone. And every time she spoke with someone, the conversation ended with her glancing over at us and shaking her head.
A Collie arrived for the day, followed by a Cavalier King Charles. Alice and I took seats in the waiting area. And all the while, I kept watching the door in the back wall. I was expecting Steve to come bustling through it like he'd done the day before.
So when a woman on the other side screamed, a sound so shrill and panic-stricken that it made the hairs on the back of my neck rise, I was on my feet and pushing through the door before the sound had even died.
Candy was standing in the hallway. Her face was white; her mouth, half open. Her hands were raised and clasped tightly together in front of her chest as if in prayer.
“What's the matter?” I asked.
She looked at me with stricken eyes but didn't answer.
“
What?
” I said again.
What?
” I said again.
I was striding toward her as I spoke, and then, all at once, I saw what she'd seen.
Steve's office door had been pushed partway open. Just inside, a body was lying on the floor. Steve's face was turned upward and his eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. A dark pool of blood surrounded his head like a viscous halo.
Steve wouldn't be making our meeting that morning. Or any other meetings for that matter.
7
“C
all nine-one-one,” I said quickly.
all nine-one-one,” I said quickly.
It's what people are supposed to do under circumstances like this. Even when they knew better than to think it would do any good.
Madison must have followed me into the corridor because she was standing behind me, staring over my shoulder. I grabbed her, turned her around, and gave her a little push.
“Go!” I said. “Call for the police and an ambulance.”
“Oh God, no!” said Candy. She backed away down the hall, her head shaking frantically from side to side. “No, no, no . . .”
The door at the far end, the one that led outside, drew open. Bailey came walking in. She and Candy just about collided, though Candy didn't even seem to notice.
Now her hands were up and covering her mouth. As if they were holding in a scream.
“Bailey, stop right there!” I said.
The groomer complied, then looked at me in confusion. “What's going on?”
“There's been an accident. The police are coming. Does that door have a lock on it?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess so.”
“Would you please let yourself out and lock the door behind you?”
Bailey glanced over at Candy, who was now standing with her back pressed against the wall. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She looked like she was going into shock.
“Who put you in charge?” Bailey asked me.
“I did,” I said firmly. “Now go.”
She looked once more at Candy as if hoping for guidance. None was forthcoming.
“Believe me,” I said, “you don't want to be here right now. I mean it. Go!”
Bailey finally complied. I saw her adjust something on the knob and heard the latch click shut behind her.
The phone in Steve's office began to ring. I ignored it.
Candy was ignoring everything. I doubt she even heard the sound.
After four rings, it stopped. Then the phone in Candy's office across the hall began to shrill. Someone was persistent. And they were going to have to wait.
“I called,” said Madison. She opened the other door but didn't enter the hallway. Her eyes looked up, down, anywhere but at Steve's office. “They said someone's coming.”
“Good. Make sure no one comes in here until they get here, okay?”
“What about her?” Madison was looking at someone behind me.
Alice. I'd forgotten all about her. Apparently she'd followed me into the hallway, too, and had been standing there the whole time.
“I'm going,” said Alice. She, too, had her hand over her mouth. I hoped she wasn't about to throw up. “I'll wait for you out in the reception area. Unless . . .”
“What?”
“Do you need any help?”
Bless her heart. Once a mother, always a mother. Alice looked like the last thing on earth she wanted to do was get more involved in the situation than she already was. But still she had to make the offer. What a trooper. What a friend.
“I'm just standing here,” I said.
That wasn't strictly true. I was also keeping an eye on Candy. The paramedics were going to be too late to help Steve, but his sister looked like she could probably benefit from their services.
“Why don't you wait out front?” I said. Alice looked like she could use some fresh air. “When the police get here, you can show them where to go.”
Alice disappeared. That left me and Candy alone in the back half of the building. Wellâand Steveâbut I wasn't counting him.
Candy hadn't moved at all for several minutes. She was making a small mewling sound that seemed to come from deep within her throat.
Skirting the doorway to Steve's office as widely as possible, I tiptoed down the hallway to her. “Are you okay?”
Stupid question under the circumstances, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
Still mute, she shook her head.
“Is there anything I can do? Someone you want me to call?”
“Is he . . . dead?” she whispered.
I hadn't checked. After one look through the open doorway, I hadn't gone any closer. But something, presumably a bullet, had opened up Steve's cheek. And then there was the blood. Lots and lots of blood.
“Yes,” I said gently. “He's dead. Do you want to sit down?”
Candy took me literally. It was as if her bones had suddenly stopped supporting her. Back still braced against the wall, she simply slid down it until she reached the floor.
I sat down beside her.
“How did this happen?” she asked.
“I don't know.”
“Someone must have broken in. A robber. We don't keep a lot of money here. What did they want?”
“I don't know,” I said again. It was the only thing I could think to say.
Candy lifted stricken eyes to mine. “Last night, last time I saw Steve . . .”
Saw Steve alive
, she meant. Neither one of us needed to say it.
, she meant. Neither one of us needed to say it.
I nodded.
“He and I had a fight . . . an argument over something stupid. How terrible is that? And now I'll never have a chance to fix things. . . .”
Candy's slender body began to shake. Then she was alternately sobbing loudly and gasping for breath. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. It was warm in the hallway, but her skin felt cold and clammy against mine.
Twenty-four hours earlier, we had been strangers. But right now, at least for the moment, I was the closest thing to comfort she had.
The wait for help to come seemed interminable, but Alice told me later that the first police car arrived in under ten minutes. It was followed shortly by an ambulance. Moments after that, the building was swarming with activity.
I handed Candy off to a sympathetic EMT and joined Alice out in front of the building. The people who handled this type of thing for a living had arrived. They would know what to do. Our part in the calamity had ended.
“Ma'am?” An officer came running out of the office after me. “I'm going to need to get your information. And could you wait here until the detectives arrive? They're going to want to ask you some questions.”
“I don't know anything,” I said.
“We still need to talk to you.”
The officer took out a pad and wrote down Alice's and my names, addresses, and phone numbers. Then we went and sat in Alice's car and waited some more.
I called Sam and told him I'd been held up. There was no point in going into details over the phone. Later, after I'd put some distance between myself and everything that had happened, it would be easier to talk about.
Authorities continued to arrive. Marked and unmarked police cars pulled in next to ours, followed by a coroner's van.
“I know things like this have happened to you before.” Alice watched the activity that bustled around us with huge, haunted eyes. “How do you stand it?”
“Not easily,” I said quietly.
“I mean, you went right in there and took charge. Like you knew what you were doing.”
I shook my head. It hadn't been that big a deal.
“Anybody could have done it. All I knew was to call for the authorities and try not to mess up the area. I learned that from watching TV.”
Alice looked at me speculatively. “You talked to Steve yesterday, didn't you?”
“Yes, he was the one who gave me a tour around.” I paused and swallowed heavily, remembering Steve's energy, his enthusiasm, his affection for the dogs like Nathan, the old Dachshund. What a terrible shame this was. What a loss.
“So now you're involved again.”
“No, I'm not.” The protest was automatic. “I'm a mother now.”
“You were a mother before and that never stopped you.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
I didn't answer and Alice didn't push me.
“I wonder what will happen to this place now,” she said instead.
The two of us gazed over at the front building where things seemed to be calming down. People were still going in and out, but they weren't moving with the same sense of urgency they'd had when they first arrived.
“Maybe Candy will continue to run it. Otherwise, an awful lot of dog owners are going to be out of luck.”
“Including me,” Alice said glumly.
Eventually the police remembered that we were still waiting there to speak with them. A detective came out of the building, stopped and looked around, then strode our way.
He was tall and stocky, carrying more fat than muscle on a frame that looked like it might once have belonged to an athlete. In deference to the heat of the day, he had pulled off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and loosened the knot of his tie.
He leaned down and looked in the open car window. “I'm Detective Minton. Are you the ladies who found the body?”
“No.” I replied before Alice could speak.
Over the years, I've discovered that it pays to be very precise when talking to the police. Otherwise, they have a tendency to quickly form conclusions that give them what they need rather than waiting patiently and listening for the truth.
“We're the women who came running when we heard Candy scream,” I corrected. “She was the one who found her brother's body.”
“You mind stepping out of the car? I have a couple of questions for you.”
We complied. The detective stood for a minute and looked both of us over carefully.
It was, no doubt, a gesture designed to make us feel guilty. Maybe it was working on Alice, but I'd dealt with the police often enough that I was pretty much immune. If he was hoping that we'd fall to our knees and confess, and he could have the case wrapped up by noon, he'd come to the wrong place.
“Which one of you is Miss Travis?” he asked.
“It's Ms.,” I said.
It's not that I'm a fanatic for feminism or political correctness, but calling myself Miss negated Sam's presence in my life. And Mrs. didn't exactly work either, considering that I'd kept my own name rather than taking Sam's. So the semantics of the situation were a little tricky.
And judging by the expression on Minton's face, I could see that they'd already caused us to get off on the wrong foot.
“
Ms.
Travis,” he repeated. Now there was a hostile edge to his tone. “What were you and Ms. Brickman doing here this morning?”
Ms.
Travis,” he repeated. Now there was a hostile edge to his tone. “What were you and Ms. Brickman doing here this morning?”
“Alice and I had an appointment with Steve Pine.”
“About?” He gaze swung back and forth between us.
“My dog, Berkley,” said Alice. “He's a Golden Retriever. I got him for my kids for Christmas. Not last year, the year before.”
Oh Lord, I thought, I'd forgotten about that. When Alice got nervous, she babbled. And once she got going, who knew what she might blurt out in an attempt to be helpful? I hoped she didn't babble us right into trouble.
“How nice.”
The detective favored her with a smile. Like he was sure they were going to be friends. This was a variation on good cop/bad cop that I hadn't seen before, considering that there was only one of him and two of us. Nevertheless, it wasn't hard to see that I wasn't the favorite.
“And your dog, Berkley, he comes here for day care?”
“Not yet, but I was hoping he was going to be accepted. You see, I'm going back to work. For the first time in years, I'm going to be gainfully employed. Well, you know, not just a mother. It will be mostly half days in the beginning, but then full time in the fall when the kids go back to school. Carly and Joey are their names. She's seven and he's nine. Would you like to see pictures?”
Amazingly, she got that all out without even pausing for breath.
“No, that won't be necessary. So you came here this morning to meet with Steve Pine. Did you see him?”
“No,” I said. The answer seemed pretty obvious to me. “He was dead.”
“And when did you find that out?”
“Right after Candy screamed.”
“Where were you when that happened?”
Alice shot me a look. I don't think she liked my brief answers any more than the detective did. She decided to take over and elaborate.
“We were sitting in the reception area. And we'd been waiting, like . . .
forever
. The girl behind the desk was supposed to be locating him for us, but she kept stopping to do other things.”
forever
. The girl behind the desk was supposed to be locating him for us, but she kept stopping to do other things.”
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