Drool Baby (A Dog Park Mystery) (Lia Anderson Dog Park Mysteries) (21 page)

Renee was giddier than a four year-old boy at the sight of all that heavy equipment. Dakini, good girl that she was, remained watchful at Renee's feet.
This morning Esmerelda plied them with omelets to go with their lattes. Lia warned herself not to get used to being spoiled like this. She was unlikely to
run into more patrons as open and generous as Renee. She'd met too many who treated artists like hired help.

Peter had park duty again. She imagined he was absorbing every detail of everyone's behavior. She didn't know what he expected to find. She was just about
convinced that Bucky was a myth. Yes, something weird had happened with Bailey's meds, and someone had pulled some posts on that web-site. But there had to
be another explanation. This wasn't like the quiet neighbor that nobody knew who buried bodies in the basement. She knew all these people, and there wasn't
a killer among them.

And she was tired, tired of living with the suspicion, tired of digging into secrets. It just wasn't her. She believed in seeing the best in people. That
philosophy had worked well for her for years. Now she was trying to live with conflicting world-views, and it was making her crazy. Peter was really sweet,
and thoughtful, and he genuinely cared for her, and geezelpete, the sex got better all the time. But she needed more air. Time to step back a bit. She
needed her own space again. Once she had that, she could figure out if she could deal with his cop's perspective full time.

She didn't look forward to the conversation. This week was going to be crazy with the sculpture going in. And Peter was totally convinced Bucky had blown
up Roger's house with Roger in it. He wouldn't listen to reason right now. Better to let him dig around and not find anything. She'd let it ride until the
weekend. By then, maybe things would be calmer.

By mid afternoon, the cement was setting and spires of rebar formed a vision of her intent. It was real, and it was happening.

"Look at all that wet cement, Lia. Don't you just want to go and scribble your name in it?"

Lia smiled. "Yeah, but we don't want to upset the concrete guys."

"I think you should put your signature in the base. I'll ask them."

Lia shook her head as Renee strode across the yard and approached the foreman. He shrugged, and Renee came back grinning.

"He said, 'Lady, you're the one who's paying.' Find a stick, Lia, we're going to christen this thing."

Peter came home to a dark apartment. Lia was lying on the couch, one hand drifting indolently over the side, tangling in Honey's long fur. Chewy and Viola
met him at the door, seeking attention. He petted them absently. "Hey," he said, "aren't you the soon to be world-famous artist, Lia Anderson?"

"Smart ass."

He sat down next to her legs and placed a comforting hand on her thigh. "Did something go wrong with the pour? I thought you'd be dancing on the roof when
I got home."

"It went fine. I hope it did, anyway. We won't know for sure until the mold comes off. That will be a few days. I get spacey when something big happens,
and I don't know what to do with myself. So I just came home and tried to take a nap."

"We should celebrate. It's not every day you make a major sculpture."

"It's not done yet. We still have to polish the concrete, set the mosaics and create the ground markers. I've got months of work left to do."

"Yeah, but you've now got this big, honking pile of concrete to play with. It wasn't there before this morning."

"Well, yeah. . ."

"We need to do something to mark the occasion."

"Putz's."

"That's it? I was thinking steak or sushi. You sure you wouldn't like something with a little more class?"

"I'm exhausted. I want a banana split for dinner, and I don't want to get out of the car. We can toss the dogs in the back of your Blazer. Besides, who
said Putz's isn't classy? It's the classiest soft-serve on the West Side.

The dogs got cups of soft serve. Peter had a couple chili-dogs. Lia ate every last bite of her banana split, then discovered she was hungry and had a
chili-dog.

"I don't understand your diet," Peter said. "One day it's algae and raw food, the next it's processed meats and white bread."

"I'd be an insufferable bore if all I ate was a raw, vegan diet. How would it be if someone, with love in their heart, baked a big triple chocolate mousse
cake for me and I said, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I can't eat that, it's got to be a dehydrated raw cake made with freshly ground cacao nibs and raw local honey.'
I'd be a jerk if I didn't have at least three pieces."

"And your banana split and chili dog dinner?"

"Was so exactly what I wanted. There's something about eating junk food in your pajama pants when you're fried. Only this is Putz's, so it's high class
junk food. I think I may live."

He took her home and tucked her in. Then he sat at the kitchen table with a beer and the Bucky book. Lots of notes, nothing solid pointing in any specific
direction. Trees was still working on those payroll records, looking for deceased employees. That was a time consuming project, and one that might not bear
fruit.

Peter was worried. It had been a month, and they were spinning wheels. Worse, they were losing momentum. He'd been working overtime and hadn't had much
time for off-the-clock sleuthing. Lia was caught up in her project and didn't seem to be taking Roger and Gina's death seriously enough. They needed to
talk about this, but not now.

"Very good."

Lia opened her eyes to see Asia smiling at her from the other end of the log.

"Take note of how you are feeling inside. Are your muscles tense or relaxed? Feel your pulse, is it fast or slow. Is your heart beating normally, or is it
pounding?"

"I feel pretty relaxed," Lia said after she'd taken stock. "It's amazing, really." She looked up into the trees, the interlacing of partially bare
branches, felt the sun on her face. "I feel like I have my special place back."

"That's excellent. I noticed your dogs are not staying so close today. Do you suppose they sense that you aren't anxious?"

Lia looked across the creek to see Honey rolling in . . . something, while Viola and Chewy watched. "Oh, God, I don't even want to know what that is."

Asia laughed. "Do me a favor and keep her away from me, I have more clients to see today, and I don't have time to go home and change.

"One thing we never talked about," Asia started. "We've never talked about what you were doing in the woods that day. You've mentioned that you were upset
and came down here to think and then met Bailey."

"That's right."

"What had you upset that day?"

Lia blinked. "You know, I don't remember. Someone said something that set me off. Why do you ask? Do you think it's important?"

"It could be. It's part of that experience. On some level, you're probably still reacting to it. If you don't remember it, you have no way to deal with it.
If you want, I can help you remember."

"You can? How can you do that?"

"I can hypnotize you."

"Hypnosis? Seriously?"

"It's not like in the movies. You won't become Kevin Bacon channeling dead girls. I do a relaxation exercise and put you into a very light trance. You
probably won't feel different. You'll be totally aware of everything around you and you'll remember everything that happens. Would you like to try? I
promise I won't make you cluck like a chicken."

"Why not," Lia shrugged.

"You can sit there, or you can lay on the ground if you like. That might be more relaxing."

Lia stretched out on a bed of leaves. The three dogs came over to examine this strange development, sniffing at her as if she were a strange life form.
Viola licked her face, then lay down near by. Honey snuggled up to her side.

"Is this all right?" Lia asked.

"They can stay with you. Okay, now close your eyes. Take notice of the tension in your body, starting with your toes. Put all your attention into your
toes, and relax them. Move your mind up to your instep, notice any tension or stress there, now relax your instep . . ." Asia proceeded in this fashion up
to the crown of Lia's head, where Lia was asked to "relax your hair."

"Now I'm going to count to ten. As I'm counting, imagine you are walking down a spiral stairway. The higher I count, the deeper you go. When I reach ten,
you will be in a light trance . . . now there is a door in front of you. Notice the size of the door, what materials it's made of, how old it is. I'm going
to count to three, and when I reach three, you will open the door. When you walk through, you'll be back at the day Bailey attacked you. You will enter the
time before you went into the woods. One . . . two . . . three . . . . Now open the door and walk through. . . . Where are you?"

"I'm in the dog park." Lia didn't actually think she was in the dog park, but the thought popped into her head in answer to Asia's question.

"Who do you see?"

"I see Anna." Again, this was an impression more than a memory.

"Where is Anna?"

"She's on a picnic table, next to me."

"How do you feel?"

"I'm angry."

"Angry with Anna?"

"No, Peter. I'm telling Anna about it, and she's defending Peter. She says I need to be reasonable." The conversation came flooding back, almost as if she
were there. "Now she's saying awful things about Catherine, and she says Catherine did me a favor when she shot Luthor. She's saying Luthor's death is a
gift."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Confused . . . I don't understand why she's saying these things."

"What is it that bothers you?"

"It does't sound like Anna. It sounds like someone else, someone I don't know."

"What do you do?"

"I leave. I go for a walk in the woods."

"Okay, you're doing great. Now I want you to close your eyes. On the count of three, open your eyes. Leave the fear and anxiety behind. You'll feel fully
refreshed and relaxed. . . . One . . . two . . . three . . . . How are you feeling?"

Lia blinked. "Um, fully refreshed and relaxed?"

Asia laughed. "Smart ass. What about the memory?"

"I can't believe I forgot that conversation with Anna. It was so unlike her. It was a bit creepy, the way she was talking."

"Sounds like you saw something you didn't like."

"I didn't understand it at all."

"I know Anna is your good friend. Does remembering this conversation affect how you feel about her?"

"I don't know. I'll have to let this settle and see how I feel. I don't know what I should do."

"What's the problem?"

Lia struggled to find a way to speak to Asia about her dilemma. "Peter . . . he's not crazy about Anna, and if he knew about this conversation, well, I'm
hearing a big fat, 'I told you so' in my head. It would give him ammunition. But Anna's my friend and I don't like being told who my friends are."

"You, yourself, said the conversation made you uncomfortable."

"It was one conversation. We've been friends for years."

"It sounds like it was an important conversation. Your gut was trying to tell you something. It's important to honor your gut. Right now, I hear you
rationalizing the experience away, discounting your own perceptions. It's important to own your truth. The more difficult it is to face, the more important
it is to face it. Remove Peter from the equation. Listen to the non-verbal part of you, the feeling part. What is it saying?"

"I can't remove Peter from the equation. There's a bit more to it than his opinion. There's something I can't talk about, not yet."

"When you're ready, I hope you'll tell me."

"It's not like that. Someone trusted me to keep something private, so I can't share it with you. I'm sorry I'm being so confusing. I'm pretty confused
myself, right now."

"Don't apologize. This is your time to use however best supports you. Let me make just one suggestion, and then let's call it quits for today and enjoy a
nice walk back up the hill."

Lia laughed. "Since when do 'nice walk' and 'up the hill' belong in the same sentence? Okay, what are your parting words of wisdom?"

"The more complicated things feel, the more important it is not to let outside issues cloud your perceptions. Forget Peter, forget everyone but you and
Anna, and that one conversation. Isolate that and feel it until you understand what it was about that conversation that made you want to get away from
Anna. This is your truth, and it's important for you to accept it. You've told me that you're not sure you can trust yourself where Peter is concerned.
When you learn to honor your gut and really listen to what it's telling you, you'll be able to trust yourself."

Lia said goodbye to Asia at the parking lot, then walked her furry crew up the hill to the park. The hypnosis session had given her a peek behind a
curtain, a glimpse of inhumanity in Anna that she didn't like. Anna had always been a practical woman, but her comments during that conversation went
beyond practicality to something Lia couldn't quite name.

Her mind was frozen. It was as if to think would be to see something she couldn't bear. Behind the wall of ice was the thought, "Could it be Anna?" Anna,
her friend, who babied her and watched over her like a mother after Luthor was shot. Anna who fixed her a scrambled egg and cheese sandwich when she
sprained her ankle, Anna who for years made her laugh with caustic observations about people and life in general. As Honey, Viola and Chewy towed her up
the drive, she chipped away at the ice, carefully. If it were Anna, then that meant Anna stole her phone, shot Luthor, booby-trapped Terry's ladder, framed
Catherine and drowned her, then set Bailey up to have a nervous break-down, endangering Lia's life.

But why? It was true, Anna had no love for Luthor, Catherine, or even Terry. But she was always so rational and dismissive about it. And Bailey, Anna liked
Bailey. That's what she'd always thought, anyway.