Doggie Day Care Murder (23 page)

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Authors: Laurien Berenson

BOOK: Doggie Day Care Murder
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“You know, those round, curvy cakes you make in a mold? Mine was pistachio.”
“I know what they are, I just wouldn't have the slightest idea how to make one. You're a woman of many talents.”
“I'm a woman who can read the directions on the back of a box,” said Alice. “Trust me, it's no big deal. Davey could probably make one if he was so inclined.”
Perish the thought.
“Okay, so you took Amber a cake. That was very neighborly of you.”
“That's what I thought. Also, you know, better late than never. Did you know that woman has
nine
cats?”
“Really? She only had six when we lived there. She must have had a litter of kittens.”
“Maybe you ought to talk to her about spaying and neutering.”
I held up my hands. Like maybe I was warding off evil.
“Not me. I've got my own problems. What did you find out about James?”
“For one thing, he isn't just a figment of her imagination. She showed me her wedding pictures. They've been married three years.”
“Right. And separated for how long?”
“I didn't have the guts to ask. I did, however, manage to do a little snooping around. You would have been proud of me. I looked for things that might indicate that a man was actually living there.”
“Newspapers piled on the table and wet towels lying on the floor?”
We smiled together.
“I got nothing,” Alice continued. “The woman's a neat freak.”
“With nine cats around, I imagine you'd have to be.”
“Says the person who lives with five big dogs.”
“Point taken. Now back to James. What did he look like?”
Alice thought for a minute, then said, “Ordinary.”
“That doesn't help.”
“Maybe it does. Think about it. Maybe he has been around some and we just never noticed him. That could be the case. In fact, I bet it probably is.”
I put down my fork and looked at her. “Another possibility is that you're trying to wiggle out of your assignment.”
“Well, okay, you're right, that could be the case as well. But come on, I baked the woman a cake. What more do you want from me?”
“Oh please. You already told me all you did was read a box.”
“And add eggs. Don't forget that part. That was important.”
To the bundt cake, I'm sure. To me, not so much.
“So we're back to square one.”
“Square two,” said Alice. “I've seen pictures. That should count for something.”
“Bob suspects Amber sliced James up and buried him in the basement.”
“Bob has a terrible imagination.” Alice shook her head. “It's a good thing you divorced him.”
“I think so too,” I agreed. Without that step, I'd have never met Sam.
“What about Steve?” asked Alice.
“He's definitely dead.”
“I
know
that. But you were supposed to be figuring out who killed him. How's that going?”
There was only one thing I could think to say. “Slowly.”
“And you had the nerve to criticize me.”
“Maybe I should bake Candy a cake,” I said mildly.
“Make it a bundt,” said Alice. “They do the trick every time.”
23
F
ortunately, Shannon Ritter wasn't hard to find. I let my fingers do the walking through half a column of telephone book listings and at the sixth grooming salon I called, the person who picked up the phone offered to get her for me. I declined and asked instead what hours she worked.
“Eight to five,” the woman said shortly. “Just like the rest of us.”
I'd returned home after visiting Pine Ridge and seeing Alice, but now it looked as though I'd be heading out again. Sam was working, so Kevin was with me. Riding in the car ranks right up there among his favorite things, so he didn't mind a bit.
Beautiful Petz turned out to be a storefront operation in a strip mall on the Post Road in west Norwalk. I had Kevin's stroller with me, but once again it was easier just to wrap the sling around my shoulders and pop him inside.
The car windows had been open during our drive, and when I went to get Kevin out of his car seat I saw that most of his wispy blond hair was standing on end around his head. Unfortunately, my efforts to smooth the strands down into place with my fingers only created more static. When I began to laugh, Kevin joined in, clapping his hands with glee. Punk baby it was.
A bell above the door chimed as we entered the store. I doubted that any of the groomers scattered around the big room could hear it over the high-decibel roar of blow-dryers and rock music, but one lifted her head and glanced my way.
“We don't take walk-ins,” she said.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned her attention back to the fluffy little dog on her table. It looked more or less like a Cockapoo, but the groomer was scissoring in the lines of a Bichon.
“I don't have a dog,” I said. “I'm here to see Shannon Ritter.”
“What?”
I took a couple of steps closer.
“Shannon Ritter?” I yelled.
Kevin stirred within the sling, and I gave his back a reassuring rub.
“She expecting you?”
I shook my head.
“She's busy.”
The groomer lifted a hand and pointed with her scissors. A girl in the back of the room was lifting a wet Cocker Spaniel out of a tub. The black dog was draped in towels, only its muzzle and nose were visible.
Shannon looked younger than Larry by at least a decade. Baggy overalls covered most of her body, but she was thin enough that her shoulder blades stood out in stark relief beneath her thin T-shirt. Long red hair was piled in a messy knot on top of her head. Her roots needed touching up.
I started to walk back to see her. The groomer at the front table held up her arm to bar my way.
“No customers allowed past the yellow line. Company rules. Safety, you know?”
Like what? I might accidentally trip over a grooming table and fall in a bathtub? I sighed and stepped behind the line of tape on the floor.
Shannon was now placing the Cocker in a wire crate. She shut the door and directed the flow of a nearby blower to start the process of drying his coat. This looked like an opportune time to grab her.
“Would you mind getting her for me, please?”
The groomer rolled her eyes. I crossed my arms over my chest. Or as close as I could come with Kevin there.
We'd reached a standoff.
The woman sighed in exasperation. I couldn't hear the sound, but her body language was eloquent enough to convey her meaning.
Then she swiveled around and screamed, “Shan! Lady here to see you!”
Jeez. I could have done that.
Shannon gave me the once-over from the back of the room.
I gave her a friendly little wave in return.
Shannon didn't look impressed. “What's she want?” she yelled.
“Dunno.” An exaggerated shrug punctuated the reply.
It was like watching the Three Stooges have a conversation.
“I need to talk to you,” I said.
“Like, now?”
“Like, yeah.”
When in Rome and all that.
With a last glance at the Cocker, now lying on the floor of the crate and cringing beneath the rush of hot air, Shannon opened a nearby cupboard, grabbed her purse, and threaded her way through the other tables to the front of the store.
“Come on outside,” she said.
I was only too happy to follow. After the barrage of noise in the grooming salon, the sound of traffic on the nearby Post Road seemed almost soothing.
Shannon stepped to one side. The shipping store next door had a striped awning that provided a welcome strip of shade across the sidewalk. She'd slung her purse over her shoulder and her hand fumbled inside it briefly before emerging with a cigarette and a lighter.
In a gesture that was both practiced and economical, she lit up, inhaled deeply, and leaned back against the concrete building. I was guessing she did this a lot.
“So,” she said. “What?”
“I want to talk to you about Steve Pine.”
“Shit.” She frowned. “I thought it was something important.”
“His death isn't?”
“Not to me.”
I was hoping she'd elaborate, but unfortunately the cigarette made a great oral substitute. Shannon sucked on that thing so hard that I wouldn't have been surprised to see it disappear into her mouth.
I considered my options and decided to play dumb. “I guess that means you two didn't have a good working relationship?”
“We didn't have a good any-kind-of-relationship.” Her eyes narrowed. “And this is your business why?”
“Candy asked for my help—”
“She would.” Shannon snorted. “Candy can't get anything done on her own. Larry—he's my guy, he works there—says the place is falling apart now that Steve's not around to run things. Probably only a matter of time until it goes under.”
Deliberately I angled my body away from hers. Kevin didn't need to breathe in any of her secondhand smoke. Shannon noted the move, glanced down inside the sling, and exhaled in the opposite direction.
“I guess you wouldn't be sorry to see that happen,” I said.
“None of my business anymore. I imagine you heard I got fired. That's probably why you're here, right? To see if I was mad enough to sneak back over there and shoot Steve?”
Cigarette dangling from between her lips, Shannon laughed as if the thought was highly entertaining.
“Were you mad enough?”
“Nah. Why would I be? So I lost my job, big deal. I'm working again. One place is as good as another, you know?”
“You're bathing dogs,” I said. “That's grunt work. I bet it doesn't pay as much as grooming.”
“So I'll work my way up again. There's always plenty of turnover.”
The cigarette was already half gone. I had no illusions about why Shannon hadn't already left and gone back inside. The nicotine fix was the draw, not me. Which meant I only had another minute or two.
“Is one boyfriend as good as another too?”
“What does that mean?”
“You and Steve had more than a working relationship.”
“Maybe . . . once upon a time. That was over a while ago.”
“That's not what I heard.”
“Yeah?” Shannon straightened abruptly. Her face leaned in close to mine. “Well, you can tell Candy from me that she has a big mouth. And that brother of hers? He wasn't the angel she thought he was. Nowhere near. You should hear some of the stories Larry tells about things the two of them did together when they were younger.”
“I heard they'd been friends for a long time. I guess that must have been pretty awkward for you.”
“What?”
“Going from one to the other.”
“It wasn't like that.” She shook her head vehemently. “Not at all.”
“Larry didn't mind?”
“You must be kidding. Larry got lucky when he got me, and he knew it.”
Who says America's youth is lacking in self-esteem?
“So now the two of you are living together.”
Shannon averted her eyes briefly. “For now. You know, until I get my shit together.”
“And then what?”
She pulled the stub of the cigarette out of her mouth, dropped it to the sidewalk, and ground it beneath the heel of her shoe. “Then I guess we'll have to see, won't we?”
She started to leave, then paused. “You'll see Candy again, right?”
I nodded.
“You want to take her a message from me?”
“Maybe.”
“Just tell her . . .” Shannon's expression softened. “Just tell her I'm sorry about what happened.”
It wasn't the message I'd expected.
“I can do that,” I said.
 
 
I stopped and picked up Davey at camp on the way home. Then Sam called and told me to grab some Chinese food while I was out. Enough for four, he specified. So I stopped and did that too.
We arrived home to find Sam and Aunt Peg having drinks out on the deck. Aunt Peg took one look and held out her arms. I delivered Kevin into them.
“He needs a bottle,” I said.
“I know how!” cried Davey. “Let me.”
Sam followed him back inside to supervise, and I sat down on the chaise next to Peg.
“You look worn out,” she said. “Aren't you sleeping?”
“No.” I probably sounded a bit testy. I nodded Kevin's way. “You can blame him for that. And why does everyone keep commenting about how I look?”
“People care about you.”
“They never cared this much before,” I grumbled.
“Maybe you never noticed before.”
Aunt Peg bounced her knee up and down. Kevin jiggled, threw his hands up in the air, and laughed a throaty little chuckle.
“I thought new mothers were supposed to glow,” she said.
Aunt Peg, who never had children herself, is sometimes a little hazy about the particulars.
“That's pregnant women. I was glowing last year.”
“Really? I don't remember that. How's your suspect list coming? I seem to recall there were several more people you were going to interview.”
I nodded. “Roger Cavanaugh, the silent partner, for one. I saw him last night.”
“And?”
“He didn't have anything earth shattering to report. He said his contribution to Pine Ridge was strictly financial, and that he'd been perfectly pleased with the way his investment was being managed by the Pines.”
“Harrumph,” said Aunt Peg.
The sound was meant to convey disapproval with what I'd accomplished without actually adding anything to the conversation. As you might surmise, I've heard it before.
“And then this afternoon I spoke with Shannon Ritter.”
“Which one is she?”
“Current girlfriend of Larry the maintenance man, ex-girlfriend of Steve Pine, and the groomer who was responsible for letting JoyJoy the Shih Tzu get bred to Buster.”
“JoyJoy?”
I swear I could be passing along state secrets and if there was a dog anywhere in the mix, she'd zero in on that first.
“That was her name.”
“It's ridiculous.”
Aunt Peg jiggled Kevin again and his head appeared to nod in agreement. No doubt, she did that on purpose.
“I'm sorry, I didn't name her. I'm just the messenger. And it would help if you could focus on the important things.”
Aunt Peg frowned. She turned her head fully in my direction and stared at me with a look that went straight down her nose.
“I would be delighted to do so, if only you would tell me what those are. There's a method to mystery solving, you know. At this point you're supposed to be narrowing things down, not blithely enlarging the list as you go along. Have you eliminated
anybody
as a suspect yet?”
Blithely? Come on,
blithely
? That was a low blow. If there was anything blithe about what I'd been doing, I had yet to discover what.
“Well . . .” I admitted reluctantly. “I guess Candy Pine.”
“Steve's business partner and closest relative? The woman who, I assume, inherited the majority of his assets? Interesting choice. And what's the reason you've decided she's innocent?”

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