A Shot in the Bark (A Dog Park Mystery) (11 page)

"How so?"

"Jose is a nickname his family gave him when he was a baby. He says when he turned two, the thing he said most was 'no way.' So they started calling him Jose, for No Way Jose. He won't tell us his real name. He does say that he's Italian. He's your basic good-guy, who works with his hands and loves his wife and dogs. He's a maintenance supervisor. He knows how to fix most things and he does minor construction jobs on the side. He's always helping somebody with something, and if a dog fight breaks out, he's first to jump in to stop it. He probably played football in high school, but I don't know for sure."

"So how does he get along with everyone?"

"As far as I know, he gets along great with everyone. He gets frustrated sometimes when he's running a crew. Some of the young guys can be punks, and there was a guy who was stealing materials from a job last year. That just comes with the territory when you're a boss. Oh, yeah, he was really pissed at one of his neighbors for neglecting his dog, so he stole the dog."

"Really?" Peter's eyebrows shot up.

"The guy was such a jerk. He said, 'If you want to feed him so bad, go ahead and keep him.' Mostly, he's a teddy-bear. Have you seen his bumper sticker?"

"No, why?"

"It says, 'Mean People Suck.'"

Peter laughed, "I take it that's his outlook on life?"

"Something like that." Lia pulled a pre-cut square of contact paper off of a pile and peeled the back off. She expertly laid it on the tile design. Peter watched as she went through the process of setting up the mold and put it on a shelf with the others.

"And how many times are you going to do that?"

"Three hundred. But not all today." She lay the template back on the table, sat back and stretched. "I have some finished pavers if you want to see the end result." She pulled the plastic sheeting off the stacks of pavers in the corner.

"Pretty. What's the symbol mean?"

"This one is 'joy.' Today I'm working on 'peace.' I thought I could use it today."

"So what about Anna and Jim? Are they part of this grand enterprise, too?"

"You'd think this was a dog park project, wouldn't you? Anna, she's a good friend of mine. I couldn't have her working on Catherine's garden, she'd be making jokes about putting land-mines under the pavers. It would totally skew the whole 'higher vibration' thing."

"Bad blood there?"

"Well, sort of. Have you ever noticed how Viola gets jealous?"

"Jealous?"

"Sure. You pet another dog and she's right there, squeezing in?"

Peter thought back. "Never realized that was jealousy."

"Oh, sure. Catherine does it, and she does it a lot with Jim, and it tends to ruin whatever we might have been talking about when she butted in. She doesn't just join the group, she cuts him out of the herd, so to speak."

"So what does Jim do?"

"Nothing, really. Jim was married for more than thirty years before his wife died a few years back. He says he always does what women tell him to do. He seems to think that will keep him out of trouble. I figure it only works if only one woman is telling you what to do."

"And what does Anna do?" Peter asked.

"Make catty remarks, mostly. I think her deal is that eventually people will catch on to Catherine's games and if they don't, they deserve her. Bailey says that's because Anna's a Scorpio."

"What does being a Scorpio have to do with it?"

"Bailey says Scorpios love to sit back and watch people hang themselves."

"And what's Anna's story?"

"Let's see. Never married."

"Any guys around?"

"Just Jim, in a really casual way, just friends. She seems to like being single. She and Luthor didn't like each other much. I guess because she was right about him and maybe he knew he couldn't charm or con her . . . like he conned me," she finished softly.

"What did she think about Luthor?"

"Luthor liked to get milage out of being a writer and Anna was never impressed by him. She kept saying 'when is he going to buy you a meal that doesn't come on a bun?' and 'There's no romance in going dutch.' For all her advice, I don't think she's ever dated much. She lived with her Dad for years. She took care of him until he died, then a few years later she sold the house and moved to Cincinnati. That was ten years ago."

"Where'd she come from?"

"Somewhere around Pittsburgh. If it was me, I'd have traded in the hills for some flat land."

"Does she work?"

"Sure, she used to be an administrative assistant at this high-powered ad agency. Now she works part time for a private foundation that funds projects in children's education. Surely this isn't relevant, all this stuff? I feel like I'm boring you with nonsense."

Peter reassured her. "People are never boring, and I never know what might be relevant. Every detail helps to create a picture."

"But don't you do background checks, that sort of thing?"

"Sure, but that's places and dates. You're giving me the heart. VICAP hasn't popped any 'murder disguised as suicide' cases. So I'm going to have to solve this the old-fashioned way."

"VICAP? Isn't that the violent crime data-base? You think the guy who shot Luthor did it before?" Her eyes widened as she set her nippers down.

"I have to say it was slickly done. If Luthor's killer had realized he was left-handed and gun-shy, we would have taken it as suicide and we wouldn't be looking at it at all."

"So we could be talking about a serial killer?" Shock warred with disbelief on her face.

"You see the problem, don't you?" Peter asked earnestly. "If this is his first mistake, there's no telling how many times he's gotten away with it before. Donald Harvey killed dozens before anyone realized patients were being murdered. Right now, we don't have a clear-cut motive. It could have been the money. If Luthor was blackmailing someone, maybe it was because he knew they killed someone."

"Blackmailing a murderer doesn't sound too smart."

"No, it doesn't does it?

"Detective Dourson, You are just one surprise after another. I don't know what to say. How are you going to find this person if they're so slick?"

"It's a good question. Look at people who know the park, know you and Luthor had a fight and had access to your purse that day to steal your phone.

"Why did they have to steal my phone that day?"

"Because they timed this with your fight. The fight had to happen first."

"Oh."

"Then think about personalities and look at past histories, see if anyone has a pattern of deaths around them, but that's going to be hard to find."

"How come?"

"With Donald Harvey, all the deaths happened at nursing homes where he worked. There was an increase in the death rate at every job he had. Once somebody started looking, the pattern was there. If Luthor's case is one of a series of multiple deaths, the connections could be difficult to spot. We have no idea what kind of pattern to look for. It won't be anything as obvious as multiple dog park gun-shot suicides. The only connection I have is you. "

"Me?"

"And your phone. Has anyone else died around you in the past few years?"

"My grandfather died about five years ago in Georgia. Cancer. Nothing weird about it, and no connection here."

Peter sighed. It couldn't be that easy. "Whoever took your phone might return it. If it turns up, don't touch it, call me immediately."

"Why?"

"It might have trace evidence. I doubt it, but we could get lucky. Anyone else at the dog park with deaths around them?"

"Most of the morning crowd at the park are over forty, some are retired or nearly there. By the time you're that age, people have died around you. I'm still having a hard time accepting that someone killed Luthor. But a serial killer? At the dog park? That's mental! So are you looking at single males between the ages of thirty and fifty? Isn't' that the profile? There's plenty of those at the park."

"Doesn't have to be a guy. Women kill, too, and they have more subtlety. Whoever it is, isn't impulsive and is very organized and detail oriented. I suspect they're very intelligent.

Lia sighed. "So we can't blame this on the homeless guy who's been sleeping in the picnic shelter."

"Afraid not. Unless you let him get near your bag."

"Are you kidding?"

"Didn't think so. Look, I know you don't like the idea of saying any of your friends could be a murderer. But serial killers are often really good at acting normal, so you might not be able to tell. How about this. Who in that group couldn't have done it?"

"Well, Jose."

"Why not?"

"When he gets mad, he puts it right out there. He's too straightforward about everything. If he got mad at you, he'd punch you in the nose, then he'd forget about it. And I don't think he could keep a secret to save his life. His wife Carla says she's got to put a cap on his poker money because he's always losing." She thought for a moment, "And he's too good-natured to keep his mad on long enough to plan something like this."

"Good. Who else?"

"Jim's retired. He was an engineer, so he's smart and organized. He does this 'Mr. Cranky Pants' routine, but it's mostly for entertainment value.

"So how does that work?"

"If you tell him he should have done something a different way, or if Terry dumps too much Republican propaganda on him, he gets blustery, all out of proportion. But he's not nearly as irritated as he seems. At heart, he's the guy you go to if you want to talk about something that's bugging you. He's also the most consistently spiritual person I know. He's Catholic and makes a real effort to live according to his faith. He doesn't make noise about it, he's not preaching or showing off. You wouldn't know that about him unless you got to know him well, so I can't believe it's an act."

"Okay." Peter filed that away for further consideration. It wouldn't be the first time piety hid a murderous nature.

"Catherine . . ." Lia twisted her mouth and nipped a corner off a violet tile while she considered the dog park diva. "Anyone who dyes their hair to match their dogs has to be detail oriented. And she's narcissistic enough to not care much about other people. I don't know if she's smart enough."

"How so?"

"Well, she's really obvious in her little games at the dog park, and I think she believes she's being subtle. Wouldn't your serial killer have a more accurate perception of how people are responding to them, if they're going to fool everyone?"

"Maybe, but not necessarily."

"Besides, she doesn't get her hands dirty. If she shoplifted as a teen-ager, I'm sure she paid the maid's kid to do it for her. She pretty much wallows in not knowing how to do anything practical. I'd think a killer like you're describing would need to be self-reliant and resourceful. Catherine is neither."

"Huh."

"Aside from that, I think underneath everything, Catherine really wants to be liked. I think a lot of her posturing comes from insecurity. I know that doesn't quite sound narcissistic, but that's Catherine. I don't think you off people when you're looking for attention."

"You sure you're really an artist and not a shrink?"

"Geezlepete. This is giving me a headache. I can't think anymore right now. Can we continue this some other time?" She set down her nippers and gave Peter an imploring look.

"Sure. Lia, I know this is hard, and finding the person could get ugly and even dangerous. I really appreciate your help. I know it's hard to keep all this inside, too. Do you have any friends across the country, someone who has no connection with Cincinnati?"

"Yeah, I've got my sister in Texas."

"If you need to talk to someone besides me, talk to them. Please don't share anything about this being murder with anyone here, no matter how much you trust them."

"Okay."

"Seriously. That person might be innocent, but you don't know who they'll tell. I mean it."

"I said okay," Lia huffed.

"Look, will you feel weird if I come hang at the park tomorrow? It would be good for me to see more of your crew, but not if it's going to make you nervous."

"Let me think about it. Can I call you in the morning?"

Lia showed Peter out. When she returned to her work table, it all seemed so pointless. She shoved the template aside, planted her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. She stayed that way a long time.

Sometimes being a cop sucked, Peter mused while he drove down Westwood Northern Boulevard. Viola was in the back seat, panting in his left ear while she caught the breeze coming in the window. All he ever wanted to do was serve and protect. But what happens when doing just that hurts someone? Especially if, for once, he wanted to get closer to that someone. Would Lia always associate him with Luthor? Too bad he didn't have Brent as his full-time partner, he would have made Brent break the news to Lia so she wouldn't associate him with Luthor's betrayal, or with the news that one of her friends was probably a murderer. And if she took his advice and called her sister, well, Sis was probably urging her to leave town . . . permanently.

He thought back to the message he found on his cell when he got out of the shower. She hadn't sounded too disappointed to be talking to voicemail. She said she'd be gone from the park by 8:30, if he wouldn't mind waiting until then to run Viola. Meanwhile, she would call if she thought of anything that might help him. Did she just want some space, or was this a full blown brush-off?

He knew she wouldn't be there, but he still scanned the parking lot for her car as he pulled in. Well, he had background checks an phone records to review, he could give her a day or two. No more than that. Lia was closest to the center of this thing and the first of Detective Dourson's Axioms for Investigators was find the center and stick to it.

Anna pulled up as he was letting Viola out of the back seat. "Why, Detective Peter," she smiled, "You're becoming quite the regular. Does this mean you plan to hang onto Luthor's orphan child?"

"Hello, Anna. Jury's still out. But she's growing on me. It would help if she learned how to vacuum. Or if she could at least shed in a designated shedding zone."