1 PAWsible Suspects (6 page)

Someone had wanted those dogs. It wasn’t because they were at the house, because an intruder had tried to take them from me as well. So it had to be something directly tied to the dogs themselves. I wondered if perhaps Ruby had fed them something that was valuable to someone. I nixed that theory because they’d been with me two days. Anything that Ruby could have fed them would be out the other end by now. I hadn’t noticed the Hope Diamond in their poo.

So I was stuck with the dogs themselves as the motive until I heard otherwise. I tried puzzling out an answer as I headed out of the county and onto some back roads. I had to admit that it crossed my mind that people who lived in the country might have easier access to firearms. I thought that perhaps the dogs weren’t really purebreds, yet were sold at purebred prices.

I wondered if that would have mattered to Ruby, who only kept the Scotties as pets and had ensured they were neutered and spayed. Every road that my mind went down came up at a dead end. The dogs had no intrinsic value to them that I could tell. They were just dogs like millions of others.

Fortunately, I’d come to the farm I was looking for at about this point in my mental travels. I stepped out of the car and looked around. I didn’t see anyone, though I could hear the sounds of dogs in the background.

I was allowed to stop running my mind in circles by the sight of twenty or more puppies running towards me at full tilt. I sat down on the ground, despite the cold, and waited for their cheerful attack. Within seconds, I had puppies all over me. Most of them were terriers that I could tell. I recognized the Scotties, and others I believed were Westies. I thought one might be a miniature Schnauzer, but I wasn’t positive on that identification.

For a few moments, I just let them jump and lick on me. I’ve found over my life of working with animals that nothing is more relaxing and enjoyable than spending time with puppies. They are a moment of pure fun that nothing else matches. They were like babies without diapers or 3am feedings.

After a few minutes, someone came outside. I heard the door shut, and several of the puppies stuck their heads out of the pile to look at who was approaching.

She was a broad woman with dark curls. This had to be Harriet. She wore jeans and a t-shirt that said “Terrier Owned.”
Definitely someone I could work with
, I thought. She understands dogs as well. She came to where I was sitting and stood there waiting for me to explain what I wanted.

I gently set the puppies down and stood up. “Hello, I love all these little guys. I wish I could take them all home.”

The woman laughed. “With enough patience and a big enough credit limit on your card, you can.” Several of the puppies scampered over to her, and she picked up three of them, which she cradled between her arm and her body. They appeared to be in bliss.

“Are you looking for a particular breed or gender? I can help you find what you need.” The puppies squirmed relentlessly now, and she put all three back on the driveway.

“I’m actually here to ask about two Scotties that you sold a few years ago. I don’t know how your records are, but I needed a little help for a problem.” I tried to appear open and honest about things. Even with the number of puppies around, I didn’t want to assume that she too had just been born.

Her eyes narrowed a bit and she watched me more carefully now. “What Scotties would those be?”

“If I understand correctly, you sold two Scotties to Ruby Jenkins. One about four years ago, and the other about two years ago.”

“Are they okay?” Harriet asked. A true dog lover always asks about the pets before the people. She was no exception to the rule here. Ruby could take care of herself, but dogs always needed human assistance.

“They’re fine. They’re staying with me. Ruby had to leave town in a hurry.” I had decided to be as honest as I could be without scaring her off. I left off the missing woman and the opened house. “Anyway, someone tried to steal the dogs. I can’t get in touch with Ruby – no cell service where she is, and I thought I’d ask you if you knew of any reason why someone might want to take them.”

She nodded slowly and then turned, motioning for me to follow her. We entered the house. I could hear barking in the background, but I didn’t see any dogs here – except in photographs. She led me into a room with a large oak desk that held a computer and printer along with wall-to-wall puppy pads. This had to be her office and playroom for the dogs.

Harriet sat down and motioned me into a wooden chair about three feet from the desk. She moved the mouse and the screen came to life. She typed in a few things and she printed off a page of paper.

“This is the sire and dam information on both dogs. I don’t know if this means much to you, but the dogs were both show quality. Not highest show quality. The dam had only won a few local awards. The sire fewer still. They would be beautiful pets, but not much more. You said that someone wanted to steal them?”

I gave her a few details on what had happened. I sounded much more brave in my retelling than I’d felt at the time. She listened carefully with her elbows propped on her knees. By the time I had finished, her eyes had grown wide, and her mouth had dropped open. “And they wanted those dogs?”

I nodded to her.

“Well, I’ll be damned if I know why,” she said finally. “They are adorable, but they aren’t going to win a show, and they aren’t going to produce any winners.” She chuckled at her own joke. “We sell Scottie puppies of this show level for about $750 a piece. They’re worth every penny, but they won’t go to Westminster. So I’m at a loss as to why someone would want to steal them. Unless they were wearing diamond collars.”

“No such luck. They were wearing standard collars one red and one blue. Nothing outstanding there either.” My mind started racing again from the fear from last night, and the desire to one up the police, but I was coming up with nothing.

She stood up. “Well, sorry that I wasn’t much help. I don’t know why anyone would want to take those cuties. Well, of course, because they’re adorable, but that’s the only reason. Are you sure I can’t interest you in one?”

I shook my head and went back to my car in silence. This had been one of my last possible solutions that I could think of. If it wasn’t the dogs and wasn’t Ruby, I couldn’t fathom what was going on at the Jenkins’ house. Why would anyone take Ruby and then want the dogs too?

Before I could turn on the ignition, my phone rang. “Fitzpatrick,” I said, showing my frustration.

“Yeah, it’s Green,” said a female voice. It took me a minute to realize that this was the detective from the case. Her voice was all business, so I decided that now was not the time to make small talk.

“What is it?” I asked. I’ve found with my clients that sometimes it’s better to just ask a simple question and find the answer to it.

“We found Ruby Jenkins. I think you need to see this.”

“When you say found, do you mean dead?” I gulped a little. I’d seen death before, but death by omission, not blood and gore. I wasn’t sure how I would handle this situation.

“That’s what I mean.” She gave me an address and told me to get there as soon as I could. It was only a 15-minute drive to the neighborhood.

The police had cordoned off the house, and yellow police tape flapped in the wintery breeze. I pulled my secondhand coat around me as I approached the crime scene. An officer, who I didn’t know, waved me through. I wondered what type of description Green had given him about me. I allowed my mind to think about it, trying to keep it off the reality that I was going to see a dead body in a few minutes.

At the front door, another office let me into the house. He gave me a pair of paper shoe covers to put on, and then I entered the main area of the house.

I tried not to observe everything, but when I’m nervous, I tend to see everything around me in detail. Given that I’d never seen a dead body up close, I was sweating even though the temps were well below zero.

The house was obviously vacant, though from what I could see, it hadn’t been empty for too long. The majority of the furniture had been cleared out. I could see the impressions left on the carpet, and the floors had spots with only a fine layer of dust. The curtains had been removed and all the artwork on the walls had been taken as well, leaving those rectangular areas with a different shade of paint.

I walked slowly, still feeling concerned about what I was going to see. The officer with me apparently could tell my reluctance as he had a sneer on his face as he took me into what had been the kitchen.

Detective Sheila Green was there along with some police technicians who were taking photographs and measurements. They blocked the view of what had been Ruby, and I was good with that.

“So how did you find her?” I asked. I knew that vacant homes were not usually patrolled by the police. In my neighborhood, a pack of feral cats had taken up residence in a house that had been foreclosed upon. I observed them for a while, trying to see how they differed from The Countess, but I had a hard time reading their behavior, because much of their time was spent trying to avoid detection and capture.

Green looked at me with the silver eyes of hers, and I momentarily forgot where I was. I was still confused by her comments during our last meeting as well, so I felt flustered on top of the nervousness.

“Anonymous call.” She acted for a minute like she wasn’t going to say anything else, but I waited her out. “Someone called into the station and said that they’d seen something suspicious going on here.”

“Why is the house empty?” I wondered if the previous owners had anything to do with the case. I didn’t want to make any pronouncements and be found out for a fake if they already knew who did it.

“Foreclosure, why else?” She was right about that. Foreclosures had hit several of the Toledo working class neighborhoods hard, and some areas of town were riddled with empty houses that the bank did not take care of.

“Was the previous owner involved with this case in any way? Did they know Ruby?” I had planned to ask this casually, but the question immediately felt like I was pumping her for information. That wouldn’t help my reputation if I wanted to still be the guy who talked to dogs and cats.

“Not that we’ve been able to tell. The homeowners moved in with his parents in Cincinnati. We’re checking up on it, but it’s a long drive, so an alibi for the time period is likely. I don’t think that this killer wanted the crimes tied back to him, so he did this in a neutral place.”

One of the technicians moved to get a better angle for some measurement, and I got my first look at Ruby Jenkins. She was propped up in a corner. Her throat had been slit from side to side. I could see the marks on the side of her neck, even though her head hung down onto her chest. Despite the gruesomeness of the murder, her fingers were what made me gasp. Her nails had been pulled out, and the red raw skin under them was exposed.

“Her fingers…” I managed to say through a dry mouth.

“We’re guessing torture. She had information that someone wanted – and wasn’t squeamish about getting. So what do you know that Ms. Jenkins wanted to keep hidden? Those two dogs tell you anything?” She used air quotes again, but around the word “anything.” It would have been endearing if I wasn’t in danger of losing my lunch.

“Nothing,” I said hoarsely. I wished I could turn off my attention to detail, but I couldn’t. The floor of the kitchen was still clean. There was nowhere near the level of blood there should have been for a cut like that. So where had the crime taken place? It hadn’t been at her home, and it hadn’t been here either. Someone had taken her from the house, tortured her, and then brought her here to die. It was a rather cold-blooded plan.

“How long has she been dead?” I asked, getting a bit more of my voice back.

“She died yesterday, so about 24 hours after she went missing,” Green said. She was watching me to see if the sight of the corpse would impact me. My guess was that they’d brought me to the scene to see if I had any part in the crime and to discourage me from any more discussion with the Scotties about the crime and its solution.

It hadn’t worked, though I’d given it a moment’s thought. I needed the money from my business, and it wouldn’t look good if I couldn’t get the Scotties to tell me anything. But even more important was my desire to get back to a level of anonymity. I needed my own corner where I could watch and not be watched. I was too far out of my comfort zone at the moment.

Green still watched me as I put these thoughts together in my brain. She was observing me much like I observed the dogs. I wondered if she was coming to the right conclusions about me or if she was way off. At least with pets, they’re not likely to publicly disagree with you like humans could.

Giving the situation another once over in my mind, I realized that I’d missed something – something very important.

“Did you find any guns here?” I asked quietly.

Green pointed to the body. “Does it look like she was shot?”

I ignored the comment, because I didn’t want to look in that direction again. The agony of the fingernails being pulled out was more than I could take a second time. I knew that I’d be sick if I had to look at it again.

“No, but were there any guns here? He could have used a gun to make her leave the house. He could have used a gun while he tortured her. It’s not a totally unreasonable question.” I swallowed hard.