Mutts & Murder: A Dog Town USA Cozy Mystery (18 page)

“Why poison?” I asked.

“I told you how I like science,” he said. “It seemed like a clean way to do it. I wanted her to suffer the way she made Eddie suffer.”

I bit my lip.

“Did you get the job at Lou’s bakery just for this, Milo?”

He shrugged.

“The woman was a glutton,” he said. “Every day, on the clock, it was a red velvet cupcake. If I didn’t kill her by poisoning one of those cupcakes, her clogged arteries would have in no time.”

I scanned his face.

“Your mom tried to stop you, didn’t she?” I said. “That’s why she was in
The Barkery
that day.”

He flinched at the mention of his mom.

“I told her I was going to do it,” he said, after a moment. “I thought it would make her happy, but I guess
nothing
makes her happy. She was angry. She wanted me to leave it be. But Myra deserved everything she got. And I don’t regret a thing.”

I’d run out of questions. Something that didn’t often happen to me given my line of work.

But the sick feeling at the base of my chest had risen into the back of my throat, and I was too scared to focus on anything else but how I was going to get out of this shed alive.

Milo noticed my distress and it seemed to please him. He advanced toward me. I tried to outmaneuver him, darting from one side to the other, but the shed was too narrow and he was too quick for me.

He reached a hand up to my face, brushing away a strand of loose hair.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he said, as if he’d never felt a moment of fear in his life.

Which was probably the case: Milo Daniels was a stone cold psychopath.

“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s just so hot in this shed. Do you think we could leave and go in the house instead? Have a real talk?”

He smiled, shaking his head. He grabbed my arm with one hand and started reaching for something from the chemistry set behind me.

“I think we’ve done enough talking, Freddie,” he said. “You know where I stand. And I sure as hell know where you stand.”

His grip on my arm tightened. The sick feeling crawled up my throat.

I couldn’t die in this shed. I just couldn’t.

“Milo, don’t—”

But I was interrupted suddenly as a shadow blocked the door.

“Police! Don’t move a muscle, you bastard!”

Chapter 49

I glanced over Milo’s shoulder and saw the silhouette of a man in the shed’s doorway.

But in a split second, I was no longer looking over his shoulder.

Milo had grabbed me by the arms and had spun me around, placing me between him and the man.

The man who was pointing something at us.

Milo gripped me like I was the last bargaining chip that I was.

I squinted into the light, trying to make out the features of who was standing in the doorway.

Static suddenly broke out, echoing in the shed.

It was a cop standing there.

A moment later, the figure inched forward. Enough so that I could see him clearly. 

Lt. Sam Sakai held his gun out toward Milo. He had a look of determination on his face that was so severe, just seeing it made me almost fear him more than Milo.

That is, until Milo started yelling, making it clear that it was him who I should have been afraid of.

“Nothing’s going on here,” he growled, pulling me closer. “Me and Freddie were just meeting up for a little lunch. She comes here every now and then.”

“No she doesn’t,” the lieutenant said.

“Now how would you know if she did or didn’t?” he snapped.

“Because you’re a killer, Milo,” Sakai said.

Outside the shed, Eddie the dog was still barking. But he was skittish. He didn’t try to approach the lieutenant. He just kept barking.

The lieutenant’s eyes met mine for a second. Then they dropped abruptly. As if he was signaling me to do something. But it was such a fast movement, I wondered if I had invented it. Milo hadn’t even seen it, it was so fast.

But as the lieutenant lifted his eyes up again, I realized that I hadn’t been mistaken.

“I guess it’s gang-up on Milo day today,” Milo said, bringing me close so his cheek was nearly touching the side of mine. “I don’t know where the two of you got such a
crazy
idea, but I had nothing to do with nothing.”

“Then let her go,” Sakai said.

Milo paused, as if he was considering the prospect.

“Naw, I don’t think I want to do that, Officer,” he said. “I think I’m the one who wants you to do something. I want you to get the hell out of my shed. This here’s private property.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that either,” the lieutenant said.

“What do they call that?” Milo said. “An impasse?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Sakai said. “Let her go. Come with me, and we’ll get this all sorted, Milo. I’ll tell them that you were cooperative. It’ll save you some trouble.”

That made Milo laugh for some reason.

“Look, Freddie hasn’t done anything to you,” the lieutenant continued. “What do you want to hurt her for?”

“I don’t,” he said. “She just shouldn’t be nosing around in my shed. She shouldn’t be harassing Eddie, neither.”

“You know I took in that mutt of Myra’s?” Sakai said, inching slightly farther into the shed.

Milo didn’t answer. I think he was thrown by the turn in conversation.

“You know she named her dog Lancelot?” he continued. “Now what kind of name is that for a dog do you think? She must have been crazy.”

Milo still didn’t say anything. I felt his body loosen slightly.

“You know what I named him instead?” Sakai said.  

“What?” Milo finally said.

His curiosity surprised even me.  

The lieutenant looked deep into my eyes for a split second.

“
Mugs
.”

Somehow I knew.

I knew that was the signal.

I closed my eyes, kicking my legs out from under me and letting all of my weight slide into Milo’s arms.

If I had been one of those gals from the television news station, rail-thin and lighter than a green bean, the move probably would have failed miserably. I probably would have ended up disfigured with acid or something equally as terrible.

But as it was, my 150-pound body, which I had Lou’s dinners and pastries to thank for, did the trick.

It was too much for Milo to hold, and too much of a surprise for him to do much about it. He struggled for a second, but before he could regain his strength, I’d hit the floor hard, butt first. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t have any time to wallow in the pain.

I lunged forward, crawling to the lieutenant, feeling Milo’s bony hands grasping at my legs.

“Hold it right there!” Sakai yelled.

Milo froze in place.

A second later, the lieutenant was on him. Milo kicked and screamed, but he wasn’t any match for Sam’s strong arms.

A few moments later, I was outside breathing in deep, greedy mouthfuls of air, and Milo was sitting on the shed floor, handcuffed and crying while the lieutenant called for backup.

Chapter 50

“Can I see you in the meeting room, Freddie?”

I glanced up from my computer, seeing Kobritz hovering over me. His whiskers looked particularly overgrown today, but he didn’t have that shaky look that he sometimes did when he was stressed out and had too much coffee. Some of that probably had to do with the fact that he’d had more than enough stories to fill the paper with since Milo Daniels was arrested for Myra Louden’s murder.  

I swallowed, wondering just what he needed to see me about. I never liked it when bosses did that – pulled you into a meeting without telling you right off the bat what it was about. I knew that this kind of proposition was especially dangerous in the news industry, where lay-offs were often conducted in just this way.

But there wasn’t much I could do about it. I nodded and then followed him into the meeting room. I noticed Rachael had popped her head over her desk and was giving me a searing look as I walked by. Trying to intimidate me with a threatening gaze.

I knew that I was going to have to tell Kobritz about her.
And
I knew that it would most likely get Rachael into loads of trouble. It was the right thing to do, but somehow, the prospect of tattling on Rachael made me feel sleazy. I knew how it would make me look: like an opportunist angling for Rachael’s job. Which maybe I was, but I wasn’t doing it because I wanted her job. I was doing it because I didn’t like having my reputation, or any of my fellow reporters’ reputations, dragged through the mud because Rachael had decided to cross the line in such a flat-out unethical way.

I took a seat at the table across from Kobritz. He had motioned me to close the door, which I knew meant whatever he wanted to talk to me about was important.

“Your coverage of the Pooch Parade left a lot to be desired, Ms. Wolf,” he said, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the table in front of him.

I furrowed my brow, feeling immediately defensive.

He was right: my Pooch Parade story was terrible. It had been a single source story, much like Rachael’s stories, and frankly, a high school intern would have written it better.

But in exchange for that terrible story, I’d given him a golden one. A first-hand account of how I found Myra’s murderer. Along with an upcoming article on Milo Daniels. With quotes not only from the cops, but from his mother, Geraldine Kline, as well.  

That was a good bargain in my book. But here Kobritz was, berating me for my poor job of covering the parade.

“I know, but—” I started saying, but I was interrupted.  

“There’s been an anonymous complaint, Ms. Wolf,” he said, rubbing his whiskers and staring at me.

“Oh?” I said.

I couldn’t fathom what he was talking about.

He nodded.

“It appears the complaint is regarding Rachael Chandler’s ethical conduct,” he said.

“Really?” I said, my eyebrows flying high.

Maybe I hadn’t been the only one to catch Rachael and the police chief “exchanging information.”

He nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “And I believe it was
you
who made the anonymous complaint.”

I looked at him in surprise.

What would have given him that idea?

“It wasn’t me,” I said. “I swear. I mean, I figured it out, but—”

“I can’t prove it was you, of course,” he said. “But I’m bringing it up to Janet Chandler just as well. It’s a
very
serious charge indeed. And it must be dealt with accordingly. Even if Rachael is Janet’s niece.”

I tilted my head, unable to understand exactly why he thought it was me or why he was pulling me in here to—

But then, it struck me.

The Post-it notes. The ones that had been left on my desk telling me to be here Saturday night, and then the one before telling me that Myra’s death wasn’t an accident…

That had been him – that had been Kobritz who left those notes.

I saw the edges of his mouth curl up just the slightest bit as he watched me make the connection.

Kobritz must have known about Rachael and the chief of police. But he was in a precarious spot with Rachael being the owner’s niece. If Kobritz had brought it up to Janet himself, she might have not believed him. Especially since there were rumors that Kobritz had wanted to move Rachael to a beat that was more suited to her abilities than the important crime beat. It may have forever ruptured their work relationship – him having accused her niece of such an ethical transgression. Kobritz might have found himself on the cutting board come the next round of lay-offs.

But if the tip came from somebody else in the newsroom, then that was a different story altogether. It would
have
to be looked into. And Kobritz could hold up his hands, saying he didn’t know anything about it.

“Can I count on you, Ms. Wolf, in case Janet Chandler needs additional information to go with your anonymous tip?” he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

I leaned back in my chair and smiled coyly at him.

“You’re more of a politician than I thought, Kobritz,” I said.

He smiled back, but only slightly. Still, it was the most I’d seen him smile.

“I have a vision for this paper, Ms. Wolf,” he said. “And nepotism isn’t part of it.”

He knocked his knuckles against the table.

“But good reporting
is
,” he said.

“It was just blind luck that I found Myra’s murderer,” I said. “You have to know that.”

That much was true. Me finding Myra’s killer had less to do with good reporting skills than it had to do with a bizarre course of events. Everybody knew it.

Just like everybody knew that Lt. Sam Sakai was the one who actually broke the case wide open through thorough police work.

“I don’t really believe in luck, Ms. Wolf,” Kobritz said. “What other people call luck is what I call determination and persistence. The best reporters I’ve known have been called lucky by their lesser contemporaries.”

He stroked his whiskers some.

“Now, there may be a crime reporting vacancy opening up soon. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

I smiled back.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve actually started liking the dog beat.”

I was surprised that I said that, and that I actually kind of meant it too.

All this time I’d been dying on the dog beat. And now the thought of leaving it saddened me a little bit.

But Kobritz didn’t seem to hear the seriousness in my response. He just thought I was being sarcastic.

“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll talk more about filling the crime beat at a later date.”

I leaned back in my chair.

Kobritz was a conundrum.

“How did you know that Myra was murdered?” I said.

He gave me that little smile of his again and then shrugged.

“A shot in the dark,” he said. “Some people were born to be murdered, Ms. Wolf. When the police sat on that news release for so long, I knew it had to be something more than natural causes.”