Downton Tabby (16 page)

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Authors: Sparkle Abbey

Tags: #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Animals, #Cozy, #Thriller & Suspense

BOOK: Downton Tabby
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“I’m sure Mr. Kemper will take Cheeky for walks,” Chelley interrupted. “Won’t you, dear?”

“Yes.” He turned his back to me and returned to his paperwork.

I gave Chelley a sorry-I-interrupted look and moved to leave. I needed to get to the dog park anyway.

It was good when there was a person waiting in the wings for an abandoned pet. It wasn’t always so easy, and often an older dog like Cheeky would be passed over for a cute little puppy.

I let myself out, slid behind the wheel, and exited the parking lot onto Laguna Canyon Road toward what many of the locals referred to as “The Bark Park.”

I’D ASKED BETTY FOXX to meet me at the dog park because I thought it would be best to demonstrate how Raider could get exercise without Betty exhausting herself. Or getting injured again.

I had no idea how old the spritely lady was, but whatever her age, I was concerned there was a real danger she could break something in a fall caused by such a large dog.

As I drove down the road to the park, my thoughts turned to Jake and Cash’s neighbor and the black SUV. I hoped to hear from Malone.

Suddenly a blue Mini Cooper passed me going way too fast.

Hey there, buddy. Way too fast
. Probably some kid.

Heidi had acted like she didn’t know anything about what Cash and Jake had been working on. But I had the sense that though she liked to play at being an airhead, there was more than just empty air under those expensive blond highlights.

If they’d truly been in a legal battle as the process server had indicated, was it possible the other party had taken drastic measures to win? Or maybe that hadn’t been the intent, but there’d been an argument and Jake had been pushed into the pool.

Yeah, right.

There was the small matter of that electric cord wrapped around his neck. Hard to argue for an accident.

So, now we were back to the bad-tempered next-door neighbor. Or my spy theory.

The Laguna Beach Dog Park has no lot for cars, and so the parking is confined to meters along the canyon road in front of the entrance. I found a spot and parked my Benz, then reached in back for my bag. Up ahead I could see a woman pulling on a leash in an obvious attempt to remove a large barking dog from her very small car.

To my surprise it was the blue Mini Cooper that had passed me.

I quickly locked up and hurried forward to assist her.

Once I got close enough, I realized it was Betty. “Come on, Raider. Come on.” She tugged on the leash, but the Saint Bernard just barked in response. Betty reached into her pocket and held up a treat, and all of a sudden the dog bounded from the car knocking her to the sidewalk.

Exactly what I’d feared. I moved quickly to Betty who sat on the walkway. She looked unhurt but a little dazed.

“Sit.” I took Raider’s leash from her hand.

“I am sitting, Carol.” The little sprite was decked out in pearls and silk pajamas. She must have a closet full of PJs and not much else. This set was highway-road-sign yellow. Her attire no longer shocked me. The bright-red eyebrows took a little more getting used to.

“Caro,” I corrected. “I meant the dog, Bertha.” Two could play at this name game. I took the package of dog treats from her hand. “We agreed no treats when Raider is behaving badly.”

“Betty,” she corrected and eyed me from her spot on the walk. “He’s not behaving badly.” She and the dog looked at me with equal reproach. His big head tilted as if he was trying to understand what the problem was.

“Yes, he is. He didn’t respond to your command, and he knocked you down.”

“Respond to my command? He’s not a minion; he’s my friend.” She brushed at the legs of her pajamas and moved to get up. “No wonder you and Cookie don’t get along if you think your friends are supposed to ‘respond to your commands.’ Geez Louise, lady.”

I offered my hand to help her, but she ignored it, straightened her pearls, and got to her feet. Awkwardly, but under her own steam.

Wow, this was not going at all as I’d planned. How could I get through to her?

“Betty, here’s the deal. We’ve got to help Raider understand that he needs to listen to you and respond to what you ask him to do.”

By this time the dog had circled around and stood behind Betty. His big doggie grin said, “That was fun. What now?”

“He’s just strong-minded.” Her jaw jutted forward. “I like that about him.”

Someone was strong-minded, aka stubborn, but I didn’t think it was Raider. “That may be, but we need to redirect his strong mind into things that will keep him and you safe.”

“Yeah.”

“The question is do you want my help or not?”

She eyed me. “Okay, let’s get going. I got stuff to do.”

With Raider barely containing his excitement, we went down the walkway, crossed the short bridge, and stepped into the dog park. The double-gated entrance allowed us to go in without the danger of other dogs escaping. Once in, I directed Betty and Raider to the left where there was an area for large dogs. A whippet and a Weimaraner rushed forward to sniff Raider and then took off across the open space. Immediately Raider ran after them, yanking the leash from Betty’s hand.

The good news was he’d acted so quickly that she didn’t have time to resist and therefore wasn’t injured. The bad news? The big guy was running around the dog park trailing his leash behind him.

“Raider!” I called. He turned his head and looked at me and then went on chasing the other dogs who ran in ever-widening circles.

“Raider!” Betty yelled, her voice shrill and piercing. She took off across the field, her little pajama-clad legs moving like a wind-up toy. Although the dog park was green space, it was still canyon and therefore rough.

Aye-aye-aye. I took off after Betty, afraid she’d do a face plant in the rough terrain. Every time we got close to Raider he galloped away.

Once we caught Raider and unhooked his leash, we were both out of breath. I suggested we park ourselves on one of the benches and let him run.

“If you can bring him here at least once a week, it will really help him use up some of that pent-up energy,” I explained. “However, there are some things you want to watch for.”

“Like what?” Betty wriggled herself back on the bench and looked at me.

“For instance, it’s normal for the dogs to sniff each other. They’re just saying hello.”

“Yeah, they do that all the time when they come into the store.”

“But if it looks like there’s a problem, you need to intervene and call Raider to you immediately. That’s why it’s so important that he respond to your commands.”

“What kinda problem? You mean like fighting?”

“Raider’s still a pup and not an aggressive dog, so he probably won’t start anything, but sometimes in situations like the dog park there are bullies.”

“Kinda like in real life, huh?”

“Exactly.” I smiled. “And you have to help keep him safe by training him to do a couple of things. One is to come to you when you call him and the other is to ‘leave it’ which is basically just getting him to let go of something when you tell him to.”

“I can do that.” Her silver head nodded.

“It’s a great time to use those treats he’s so fond of.” I indicated the package she had stuffed in her purse.

“Gotcha, Carla.”

“Good, Beatrice.” I met her eyes. “So, let’s start with coming when you call him. We need to start with small steps that you can practice when you’re at home.”

“Okay, like what?”

“Whether it’s a young pup like Raider or an older dog, the first thing you want to do is plant the idea that coming to you is the best thing in the world.”

Betty tipped her head like a dog.

“It’s not difficult, but simple recall training takes repeating it over and over until it’s automatic,” I went on. “Any time Raider comes to you, whether you’ve called him or not, let him know you appreciate it. It doesn’t have to be treats, you can shower him with praise or rub his head, which he seems to really like.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“If you have trouble getting him to do it at first, don’t get discouraged. You’ve got to catch him doing what you want and then reinforce that behavior.”

We both looked at Raider romping with the other big dogs. Exercise was still key, but Betty had to do some very basic training with him or he was going to develop bad habits that would be difficult to get rid of.

“One thing you can try if you can’t get him to come is to go in the other direction when you call. Dogs can’t resist chasing you; it’s play to them. This can be important if he’s gotten away from you or is running toward the street. If you run after Raider like we both did earlier when he got away, he’s going to keep running away. He thinks you’re playing. But if you call him and go the other direction, he’s more likely to come toward you.”

“So, I go away from him to get him to come to me?” Betty sounded skeptical.

“Another thing, if you save a special treat Raider loves for when you’re working with him on recall, you’ll probably get better results. Cooked chicken pieces or something like that maybe. My pooch, Dogbert, loves cheese so I used bits of cheese when I first started working with him.”

“My friend Luis used chicken to get Barney to run faster during the Dachshund Derby.” Betty seemed encouraged.

“Dogs are just like us humans.” I was keeping an eye on Raider’s location as we talked. So far so good. “The things we enjoy are pretty motivational.”

“Yeah, but what if it doesn’t work.”

“I’ll bet it will work.” I patted her thin hand. “You just have to start small. Get him to come to you from the kitchen to your living room. Then try doing the same thing in your backyard. Then after he’s responding at home, try the dog park.”

“I never had a dog. I didn’t know there was so much to it.” She leaned back on the bench. “But he’s worth it.”

“Of course, he is.” I leaned down to pick up my bag. “I have some books at home on dog training that I used when I first got my dog. They were really helpful to me. If you like, you can borrow them.”

“Okay, yeah. Books would be good.” She suddenly sat up straight. “Hey, isn’t that the cutie cop?” Betty pointed.

She was right; it was Detective Malone making his way across the grounds. Black T-shirt, black jeans, his long legs eating up the space as he strode in our direction.

“Ms. Lamont, Ms. Foxx.” Malone stopped in front of where we sat. “I stopped by your office and Verdi told me you had planned to come here.”

“I waited for you to call last night.”

“It took a while to sort things out.” He glanced over at Betty whose wide eyes said she’d taken that the wrong way.

“Maybe you’d like to frisk me, Detective.” Betty wiggled her red eyebrows and snickered at her own joke.

Malone just ignored her. “I need to speak to you, privately?” He waited for me to step a few feet away.

“What is it?”

“I spoke with the process server. The letter he was delivering was an intent to sue. The two guys, Jake and Cash, are named in reference to a pet-fitness program they created. Are you familiar with WoofWalker?”

“Yes, I am. It’s one of many of those types of programs. I know of at least five or six.” I shaded my eyes from the sun to look up at him. Malone was one of a handful of people who made me feel petite. “They generally work just like the people versions, keeping track of activity and sometimes other health information.” I hadn’t been aware that Jake and Cash had created WoofWalker.

“It seems some guy believes they stole his idea.”

“I don’t know how that could be. Their device isn’t that much different from the rest of the activity monitors out there, and there are a ton.”

“Apparently the one Cash and Jake developed does more. It also monitors food intake and other health data.” Malone shrugged.

“So who is suing?”

“It’s a Brody Patton. Does the name mean anything to you?”

“No, it doesn’t.” I wondered how this Brody Patton would prove they’d stolen his idea.

Betty popped up between us. “Is this about the murder?” She looked up at Malone and batted her eyes. “I can help you out, Handsome. I’m good at this detecting stuff. Remember when we worked together and solved the murder at the Dachshund races? We were hot on the trail of a killer.”

“Go.” Malone pointed. “I need talk to Caro.”

Betty reluctantly stepped back toward the bench, muttering under her breath.

He took my arm and steered me a couple of steps in the other direction.

“We checked out Jake and Cash’s next-door neighbor. According to his vehicle registration, Mr. Zellwen has a brand-new black Escalade.”

“His name is Zellwen?” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Betty inching toward us.

“He had already contacted the department to file a complaint.” Malone had his back to her, so he didn’t see her moving closer and closer to where we stood.

“A complaint? But how is that possible? Toria is at my house. She was nowhere near his yard and couldn’t have bit him.” I was outraged for the falsely accused kitty.

“Mr. Zellwen’s complaint isn’t about the cat; it’s about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” I could tell he was holding back a smirk, and I didn’t appreciate it. “He believes you are harassing him.”

“I was on the street in public space. I was not in his yard, but if I were, I might bite,” I added.

“When I called him back, I questioned him about his surveillance recordings.”

“And?”

“We could get a court order if we have to, but Zellwen agreed to voluntarily turn over the recordings.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It is. We’ll look at the day of the murder as well as the day you were at the house and encountered the intruder.”

“Hopefully you’ll find something helpful.”

“If we find something, we may need you to stop down at the station.”

“I can do that.”

“That’s it then. I wanted you to be aware. And get your take on the dog-tracking device.” He turned to leave and ran smack dab into Betty who had moved to stand directly behind him.

“I gotta get going if I’m gonna get Raider back home before Cookie sends out a search party for me.” Betty was unapologetic about her eavesdropping.

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