Doggie Day Care Murder (10 page)

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Authors: Laurien Berenson

BOOK: Doggie Day Care Murder
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Candy had stopped walking. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. Her body hummed with tension.
“The only thing I can do . . . the only thing that makes my life even remotely bearable right now, is to put my head down and go back to work. I've lost my brother, but I'll be damned if I'm going to lose Pine Ridge too.”
She looked so alone standing there, that without thinking I reached out and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. I'm not big, but Candy felt tiny within the circle of my arms.
“Do you have any family you can call?” I asked. “Someone who could come and help out, or even just lend some support?”
“No, there was just me and Steve.” She offered up a wan smile. “The two of us against the world. That's what we always said. So I guess there's just me now.”
“And us,” Alice said stoutly. She's always been a soft touch for a sad story. “Let us help you. Melanie and I will be your support team, at least until you can get back on your feet.”
“Thank you. That's very kind of you, but it's really not necessary.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. Candy lifted a hand and brushed it quickly away.
“Look at me,” she said, “bearing up when people behave horribly and then crying the first time someone tries to be nice. I'm really sorry about all this. I don't know what's the matter with me.”
“There's nothing the matter with you,” I said firmly. “You're going through some terrible things right now. Of course they're taking a toll on you. There's no reason you should feel like you have to be strong. Certainly not in front of us.”
Candy swallowed heavily and forced another smile. “I'm fine now. Really. Let me just run inside and get that application for you.”
“Poor thing,” Alice said as soon as Candy was out of earshot. “We can't just fill out the application and walk away. We have to do something to help her.”
“Candy needs customers,” I said, “so you're helping her just by signing Berkley up for the program.”
“There must be something more.”
“Stop it,” I said.
Alice was all innocence. “Stop what?”
“Trying to make me feel guilty for not getting involved in Candy's problems. It isn't working. I'm busy all the time now. I have a new baby.”
“Liar. Even before Kevin arrived, you were always doing a hundred things at once. If you were so busy all the time, you wouldn't be gardening.”
“I
like
gardening.”
“Say that to my face.”
All right, so I couldn't.
What people saw in gardening was beyond me. It was an activity built around weeds, bugs, and dirt. And in the end, if you were lucky, you ended up with tomatoes nearly as good as the ones you could buy at the market.
I knew some people felt a sense of accomplishment, growing things with their own hands. But to me, it was nothing but a source of frustration.
Alice was still standing there glaring at me when Candy returned, paper in hand.
“If you want, you can fill this out at home and bring it back when you drop Berkley off for the first time,” she said. Then she stopped and looked at the two of us. “What's the matter?”
“Melanie solves mysteries,” Alice blurted out. “She does it all the time. She's really good at it.”
Candy turned and stared. “You do?”
“I've been lucky a couple of times.”
“She's being too modest,” said Alice. “She's like Nancy Drew. Melanie finds murderers and makes them confess. I was thinking maybe you could use her help.”
“Well . . . yeah.” Candy exhaled softly. “You'd be willing to do that? Really?”
As if Alice had left me any choice.
“I could try,” I said.
10
S
o we went back inside to talk.
This time, when Alice started looking squeamish as we headed toward the offices, I gave her a hard look and told her to get over it. This whole getting involved thing was her idea. Under the circumstances, the least she could do was buck up.
“Get over what?” Candy asked as she led the way into her office which was across the hall from Steve's.
“That.” Alice nodded toward the closed door. “Sorry, but it just kind of gives me the creeps.”
“Me too,” Candy said with a grimace. “I locked Steve's office as soon as the police left and I haven't been in there since. They gave me the name of a cleaning service I'm supposed to call, but I haven't even been able to make myself do that. I know it's childish of me, but for now I'm just ignoring the whole thing.”
“You should take all the time you need,” I said. “I'm sure it's hard enough just being back at work this soon after what happened.”
“It's not like I had a choice.” Candy motioned us inside her office and shut the door.
The room was small; with the three of us in there, it felt crowded. A plump chair sat in one corner. It was occupied by a fawn colored Welsh Corgi with white feet and a white stripe down the middle of its face. The dog was snoozing contentedly on the cushion, but he opened his eyes at our arrival, hopped down off the chair, and trotted around the desk to say hello to Candy.
She stooped down to greet the Corgi, scratching behind his ears and cupping his wedge-shaped face in her hands. “This is Winston,” she said. “He's my best friend.”
“Cute,” said Alice. “How old is he?”
“Four. I've had him since he was about eight months old. His breeder had sold him to a family that didn't know the first thing about how to raise a puppy and they messed him up pretty good. By the time he was seven months old, they'd decided he was incorrigible.”
She snorted her disdain. “Can you believe that? Idiots. They dropped him off at the pound. Luckily a friend of Steve's was working there at the time. He called us and said we had to come and see this guy. We went right over, and the rest is history.”
While she was talking, Winston had flopped over on his back on the rug. As Candy rubbed his stomach, the Corgi's back arched from side to side and his stumpy legs pumped joyously in the air.
“It looks like things turned out just right all the way around,” I said.
Giving the dog a final pat, Candy stood up and opened a small closet. She pulled out a couple of folding chairs and handed one to each of us.
“Sorry, things are a little cramped in here. I'm not really set up for visitors. Mostly when we entertained clients we used Steve's office . . .”
“This will be fine,” I said quickly.
Alice and I unfolded our chairs and sat down. Candy took a seat behind the desk. Winston hopped up and settled down on her lap.
“I hope you were serious about wanting to help,” she said. “Because I'm going to take you up on your offer. I gotta tell you, the police don't seem to have accomplished much yet, and that's making me more than a little nervous.”
“It would make me nervous, too, knowing that there's a killer running around loose.” Alice gave a little shudder.
“That's just the half of it.” Candy's fingers fiddled absently with an eraser on her desk. “The first thing the police do is look at the people who are closest to the victim. I guess those are the ones who are easiest to make into suspects. It didn't take me long to figure out that puts me right on the firing line.”
“There's a reason for that,” I said practically. “The police want to know who gets the money. Steve was not only your brother. He was your partner. Did you inherit his share in the business?”
“Yes, just as he would have inherited mine if I had been the one to die first. We both wrote our wills up at the same time, and both of us were looking to protect Pine Ridge.”
“What about insurance?”
Candy started to shake her head, then paused. “Well, sure, the business is covered. I mean, it has to be. But Steve didn't have any life insurance and neither do I. At our ages, neither one of us thought it was necessary.”
I supposed Candy was finding out just how costly that mistake had been. Still, as far as the authorities were concerned, that would score a point in her favor.
“How was your relationship with your brother?” I asked. “Good?”
“Yes, of course.” The answer was quick. And automatic.
“I'm not the police,” I said. “Try to remember that I'm on your side.”
“Even so,” Candy replied, “there isn't that much else to say. We had the usual brother-sister squabbles, both when we were growing up and now. Working together, there were times we were at each other's throats—usually with good reason. Steve and I can both be pretty opinionated. And neither of us
ever
wanted to admit when we were wrong.”
“You sound like me and my brother,” I said. “Except that in our case, I'm always right and he's always wrong.”
The three of us laughed together.
“So you get where I'm coming from,” said Candy. “Steve and I made a good team. Work-wise, we compensated for each other's faults.”
“Meaning?”
“Steve was meticulous about facts and figures, so he was the one who did the books. I have no aptitude for math and zero desire to sit inside on a nice afternoon poring over stupid numbers. On the other hand, put Steve out in the real world and he was an organizational nightmare. He'd think nothing of scheduling Bailey to groom a Sheltie and a Miniature Poodle in the same time slot, and then he couldn't figure out why she'd get pissed at him.
“Plus, his idea of being on time was to roll in somewhere an hour late. That was the kind of thing that drove me crazy, but Steve always figured it didn't matter what time he got started on something as long as he was willing to make up the time at the other end. That's why I always opened the place in the mornings, while Steve closed things up at night.”
“What else do I need to know?” I asked. “What kinds of things have the detectives been asking you?”
“Their first thought was that Steve must have interrupted a robbery. Except that as far as I can tell, nothing was taken. The computers, Steve's wallet, his DVD player, everything is still here. Even the petty cash drawer behind the counter wasn't touched.”
“What about the murder weapon?”
Candy shook her head. “The police didn't find a gun. And neither Steve nor I have ever owned one. So whoever killed my brother must have brought the weapon with him and then took it away again afterward.”
About what I'd expected to hear. “Did Steve have any enemies?”
“Not . . . in a manner of speaking.”
“Which means what, exactly?”
“You know.” Candy flipped the eraser over and over between her fingers. “Calling someone an enemy seems pretty harsh. Of course, Steve got along with some people better than he does with others. He was a normal guy. That's the way life works.”
“Sure,” I agreed easily. “Tell me about the other people, the ones Steve didn't get along with.”
Candy thought for a minute before continuing. “I guess I'd have to say that Adam Busch isn't terribly happy with us at the moment.”
“And he is?”
“Our neighbor to the north.” She turned in her chair and gestured vaguely in the direction of the window. “He seems to think that we're violating zoning laws by operating a business here.”
“And are you?”
“Of course not. All our paperwork and permits are perfectly correct and up to date. But unfortunately, Mr. Busch is resistant to change. Up until not very long ago, this whole area of Stamford was residential. But you know how it is, the city's growing like a weed.”
Alice and I both nodded. All of lower Fairfield County had changed enormously in the last twenty years, with Stamford leading the way when it came to development. Areas that had once been considered “country” now bordered towns that had expanded to meet them.
“We bought this land three years ago from an elderly couple who wanted to retire to North Carolina. Zoning around here had already been changed to allow for a commercial business on the property, but development hadn't yet begun to keep pace. When Mr. Busch found out we were planning to open a
kennel
”—Candy rolled her eyes—“he came marching right over and told us he wouldn't stand for it. As if it were up to him what we did on our own land.”
“That was three years ago,” I said. “Relations haven't improved since?”
“If anything, they've gotten worse. Which seemed crazy to Steve and me because now we're not the only business around here. The whole place has grown up, but since we were the first, it was like Busch blamed us for everyone that followed. He's gone to the city and lodged complaints about everything he can think of—the noise, the activity level, even the smell . . .”
Alice wrinkled her nose delicately. She sniffed several times, then shook her head.
“I know,” said Candy. “I don't smell anything either. And we're right here in the middle of the place. He's several acres away. Believe me, we've tried hard to appease the guy, but nothing seems to help.
“To make things worse, Busch retired last year. So now he's got that much more time to devote to harrassing us. Steve was a pretty easygoing guy, but he was reaching the end of his rope.”
I nodded. “So he had at least one enemy. Who else?”
“Well . . . maybe Lila Harrington.”
“Who's she?”
“I guess you might call her a disgruntled client.” Candy glanced briefly at Alice. “Not that we have many of those.”
“Of course not,” Alice said staunchly. She'd known Candy for less than a hour but she was already firmly on the woman's side.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Lila has a female Shih Tzu named JoyJoy.”
“Really?” I blinked.
JoyJoy?
“I kid you not. JoyJoy is the love of Lila's life. She's like a member of the woman's family.”
The name was awful, but I could well understand the sentiment.
“It turns out that Lila never had little JoyJoy spayed. And never bothered to mention that fact to us either.”
“Don't you ask on the application?”
Candy flushed. “We do now.”
“Uh oh,” said Alice. She looked like she was trying not to laugh.
“It's not funny,” Candy protested.
“I'm sure Lila didn't think so,” I said.
“You'd be amazed how quickly two dogs can manage to get together under the circumstances. By the time we even figured out what was happening, Buster was on top of her and it was too late.”
“
Buster?
” Now I was the one biting my lip and trying to keep a straight face. “I'm assuming he wasn't a Shih Tzu?”
“He's a Beagle . . . mix.”
“A mutt?” Alice giggled. “JoyJoy hooked up with a mutt? The little hussy has no standards at all.”
“Apparently not. Though the same can't be said of Lila Harrington. She threatened to sue us.”
“On what grounds?”
“She said we were negligent in the performance of our duties. She had some lawyer convinced that JoyJoy was ruined for life. That once she'd mated with a mutt, she'd never be able to have purebred puppies.”
“That's an old wives' tale,” I said. “And one that doesn't even make sense. No one believes that anymore.”
“Lila did. She was livid.”
“What happened with the lawsuit?”
“After the lawyer did a little more studying up on things, he dropped her. I guess he'd taken the case on contingency and decided it didn't have a very good chance of success. Last I heard she was trying to interest someone else in representing her. And she's still madder than a hornet.”
“That's two,” I said.
Interesting that Candy had started this conversation by declaring that Steve was just a normal guy who pretty much got along with everybody, and yet in only a matter of moments, we'd managed to put that assertion to rest. I wondered what else she wasn't telling me.
“Anyone else?” I asked.
“Um . . . possibly.”
This is the point where I usually sit quietly, waiting for the other person to become uncomfortable and break the silence. It's amazing what you can learn sometimes if you just don't push too hard.

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