Give the Dog a Bone (19 page)

“Easier said than done.”

“I realize that,” Theodora replied. She turned on a heel and walked out the door.

Chapter 19

My next appointment wasn’t scheduled for over an hour, and I needed to clear my head. If Maggie were easier to control, we could walk along Boulder Creek. But with the large number of in-line skaters and bicyclists that frequented the creek’s walkway, doing so was out of the question. I took her for a brief walk around the block instead, then got Pavlov. I took care to lock the door behind Maggie, who promptly bashed the top of her head into the glass in an attempt to follow us.

The walk did me a world of good. I felt my spirits lightening. The mountains were beautiful. The gardens around the library, too, were resplendent in their colors and scents.

As we made the return hike up Mapleton Hill to my office, I heard Maggie’s barks and quickened my pace. I was inwardly kicking myself. I’d thought her barking was under control, but something had obviously set her off. If she’d been barking like this for long, my landlord was bound to complain.

Arlen Culberson was standing at the bottom of my steps when I arrived, leaning against my glass door, his back to Maggie, who barked ceaselessly. He straightened when he spotted me. “Oh, good. You’re back,” he said, giving me a smile and ignoring, completely, my German shepherd. He held a colorful bouquet in his arms.

I mustered a smile and said, “Hello, Arlen. You brought me flowers?”

“No, I was just here waitin’ for you when someone from FTD dropped them off.”

Russell
, I thought.
What a sweet man!
The flowers were in an indigo vase. It bothered me immensely that I had Arlen Culberson to deal with now, instead of being able to steal a few moments to luxuriate in romantic thoughts about Russell.

As I descended the steps, the dogs slightly behind me, Arlen explained, “Turns out, I’m gonna be out of town Monday, so I thought I’d come to you ’n’ Maggie for a change.”

“Okay, but this time
I’m
going to be a bit pressed for time.”

Arlen gave me an embarrassed chuckle, gesturing at the barking golden. “Didn’t think Maggie’d be so on edge.”

“Neither did I.” I opened the door, stepped inside, and the dogs followed me. Arlen came in last, keeping a wary eye on Maggie. She stepped back and mingled some growls in with her barks at Arlen, her hackles raised.

Arlen set the vase on my desk and then bent down toward the snarling dog. “Come on, Maggie. I’m just here to visit you, girl.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “She looks good, anyways.”

“Her lungs are healthy,” I muttered, perplexed at her behavior. Pavlov was on edge now as well, and I quickly let her into Russell’s office.

Meanwhile, Arlen took a step toward Maggie, and she backed away, still maintaining her shrill barks. This was the first time I’d seen her shy away from someone as though she was afraid of being struck.

Arlen apparently picked up on the dog’s body English as well, for he stopped trying to get near her and put his hands in his jean pockets. “So, anyway, Allida, have you decided about my getting the dog yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You can see how nice my house would be for her. She’d have a lot of room to run around.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t too encouraged by how anxious Maggie seemed to be when she was there.”

“It was just a new setting. She’s never been to my place before, that’s all. I’m sure if you gave us a chance, she’d take to me. She always did.”

“If you ask me, Maggie seems to have taken a dislike to you, if anything.”

“She doesn’t dislike me, do you, girl?”

She growled and barked louder. This was unusual behavior for any golden, but especially for Maggie, who seemed to love all people. When Maggie flinched as Arlen removed his hat, that verified what I had previously suspected.

“You’ve hit her at some point,” I said matter-of-factly.

“No, I haven’t. She probably just doesn’t like men or something, or is scared of my cowboy hat.”

“Please, Arlen. Don’t try to con me. I’ve been with Maggie every day for ten days straight. She’s never shied away from anyone till just now.”

He clicked his tongue. “That was a long time ago and she deserved it. Chewed up my favorite hat. She can’t possibly remember and hold that against me.”

“Dogs have a long memory. And so do I.”

Arlen’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to blackball me just for smacking the dog one time? You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m Ken’s only living relative! I deserve his inheritance!”

“Then why wouldn’t he make his will out to leave it to you?”

“Like I said, we used to have problems.”

“He rewrote his will the day he died. Maybe those problems weren’t completely resolved. And in any case, my entire agenda remains getting a good new owner for Maggie. I guarantee it’s not going to be someone who thinks a dog deserves to get hit for chewing up something that shouldn’t have been in the dog’s vicinity in the first place.”

Arlen glared at me menacingly. I remained standing by Russell’s doorway, ready to bring Pavlov in here for physical protection, if need be. Pavlov would never allow me to be manhandled.

Over the sound of Maggie’s barks, Arlen said, “I know what you’re up to, Miss Babcock. You’re trying to keep Maggie for yourself so that you can get my brother’s money. You’re not going to get away with it.”

He left.

I called, “Maggie, come,” and knelt to pet her as she did so. At least I wasn’t so distracted by Arlen’s visit to forget to give Maggie a command that she could follow before rewarding her with petting her. I looked in the direction that Arlen Culberson had just gone, and murmured soothingly to Maggie, “There goes yet another dog hater who is not going to inherit you.”

I went over to the flowers and read the card:

Hope these flowers are at least one-tenth as
beautiful as you are. Love, Russell.

My heart raced, and I reread the words, wondering if this was what it meant to have one’s heart be aflutter.

The phone rang. Before I could barely get my “hello” out, the caller said, “Allida, it’s Yolanda. You’ve got to come over here right away. There’s a problem with T-Rex. He’s acting all crazy.”

“What do you mean ‘all crazy’?”

“He’s got me trapped on the kitchen counter. Whenever I try to step down, he snaps at me.”

Something medical had to be causing such a sudden, radical change in personalities. My immediate thought was that it could be a brain tumor, but I tried to argue otherwise with myself. “Has he ingested anything unusual again?”

“No.”

“I’m going to need help subduing him. I’m going to call Animal Control and—”

“Oww!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I . . . got bit already. On my leg. It hurts when I move.”

“How bad is it? Are you bleeding?”

“Not that bad. I’ll be fine. Just don’t go callin’ Animal Control. They’ll want to immediately put him to sleep!”

Another thought occurred to me. Rabies. “Is T-Rex foaming at the mouth?”

“No. He’s just acting wild suddenly. That’s all. I just need you to help me grab him and I’m sure I can get him calmed down. If we need more help, we can figure it out once you get here. Just don’t call Animal Control, all right?”

“Fine, Yolanda. I’ll be right there. Is the back door to your kitchen unlocked?”

“No, but the front door’s open.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said and hung up. I wasn’t going to argue with her, but I immediately called Animal Control and apprised them of the situation. They said they’d meet me there as soon as possible and suggested that I not enter the house myself. Agreeing with the advice, I assured them that I wouldn’t.

No dog lover wanted to see a dog “put down,” but sometimes that was the only option. I could only hope that T-Rex’s sudden change in personality was caused by something reversible. He might have swallowed a sharp object, for example, that was putting him in so much pain he was lashing out.

I opened Russell’s door, then had to squeeze past the now dejected Maggie to get outside, hoping that Pavlov would be enough company for her that she wouldn’t start barking again.

I sped along Broadway, realizing that I was going to miss yet another appointment with a client, but that couldn’t be helped. I soon arrived at the trailer park, then pulled into the empty space on the graveled area near Yolanda’s home. There was a sound coming from her place—a blaring TV broadcast, I realized as I neared. She probably couldn’t reach it from her perch on the kitchen counter. It had been fortunate for her sake, though, that she’d had her portable phone with her.

I entered the gate, shutting it behind me. The curtains on the front windows were shut. She’d said that the front door was open but the back door in the kitchen was locked. I raced up the steps, but felt a hideous deja vu. I’d entered Ken’s trailer this way.

Now I could hear T-Rex barking from inside. Maybe it was just Theodora’s warning about the gun at my head, but I wasn’t going to take any foolish risks in my attempt to be a good Samaritan and help Yolanda. I would wait out here for Animal Control, and if that meant that Yolanda would have to spend an extra half hour trapped on her kitchen counter, so be it.

I needed at least to call to her, though, so that I could make sure she was all right—perhaps keep T-Rex occupied at the other side of this door. I tried the doorknob, planning to open it a crack so she could hear me, but it was locked.

“Yolanda? Are you okay?”

No answer. Maybe I’d be able to see her through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen. I started to round the trailer, but heard a metallic click from the front door. I whirled around in surprise as the door opened.

Rachel Taylor stepped out, a small black gun in her hand aimed at my midsection. “Come in, Allida. You scream and I’ll shoot you dead on the spot,” she said, her face eerily calm.

Chapter 20

A slew of four-letter words ran through my brain. Yolanda had been right all along! Could Ruby’s life somehow have been spared if we’d all listened to her? “Where’s Yolanda?”

Rachel directed me toward the trailer with her gun. “Get inside. We’ve been waiting for you.”

I hesitated. I should scream for help. Somebody might come or call the police. Staring at the gun in her hand, there was no way I could be so bold. I was one finger-twitch away from death.

She must have tied up Yolanda. If she was still alive. If I just meekly entered Yolanda’s trailer, I’d be trapped and killed myself. Desperately, I tried to think of another option, but couldn’t.

Keeping the gun aimed at me, Rachel stepped back, and I entered the dimly lit trailer. Yolanda was tightly bound to a straight-back chair in the living room. T-Rex was barking from a back room. His barks bore the shrill pitch that indicated he was distressed.

Yolanda murmured, “Sorry ’bout this. I didn’t want to call you. Tried not to.”

My eyes adjusted, and I gasped at the condition of her face. She’d been beaten. Her lip was split. One eye was swelling closed.

Rachel pushed me forward and shut the door. There were no signs of a struggle, save for Yolanda’s glasses, the frames broken in two, on the floor. Rachel must have punched Yolanda after she’d already been bound to the chair.

Did she intend to murder everyone Ken had known? If she was the only one left alive, it was going to be pretty damned obvious that she was the killer! I turned my face toward her and asked through gritted teeth, “What’s the point of this?”

“Simple, really. You’re going to sign this piece of paper I wrote up for you, appointing the permanent guardian for that disgusting fleabag of Ken’s.”

Though trembling from both rage and fright, I said defiantly, “Why would I do that? You’re obviously going to kill us both before the ink’s even dry. Besides which, for God’s sake, think about this, Rachel! It’ll be totally obvious that you’re the murderer. You’ll have a signed piece of paper from me giving you ownership of the dog, the very day somebody shoots me to death. How’s that going to look? This is . . . totally nuts.”

She chuckled and leaned back against the door, the gun still trained on me. “The trouble with you, Allida, is you think you’re smarter than everyone else. But I’m way ahead of you.” She pointed with her chin to the coffee table. On top of it was a typed form on a legal-sized sheet of paper. “Look at the contract.”

I bent down to read it on the table, knowing if I picked it up, my trembling hands would give away how frightened I was. The person named by this contract to receive custody of Maggie—and thereby Ken’s inheritance—was not Rachel Taylor. “You’re forcing me to give the money to Theodora?”

Rachel grinned. “Who is then going to take the rap for two murders. Soon to be four.”

Yolanda and I met each others’ eyes. The feistiness that I’d always seen there was absent. She appeared resigned to her fate. I wished I could tell her not to give up hope, that Animal Control was bound to arrive any moment now.

“And what good does a signed contract giving Maggie to Theodora do
you
?” I asked Rachel in spite of myself.

“I’ve got a copy of a will, signed by Ken, dating back a couple of months ago, which makes me the sole beneficiary. That copy will go into effect once Theodora gets convicted of the murders, since it’ll look like she killed Ken to get his inheritance. You won’t be around to determine guardianship of the damned dog, so that piece of garbage
Ken
signed won’t matter.”

I told myself to stay calm. I just needed to stall for another minute or two until help arrived. “Okay. You outsmarted me. But I’m still not signing it.”

“Sure you are.” She trained her gun on Yolanda, who squirmed in her chair and moved her head away a little. “Do you want to watch me kill Yolanda in front of your eyes, Allida? You sign that contract, or that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Yolanda shut her eyes. Though she was clearly frightened out of her wits, she said, “Don’t do it, Allie. She’s gonna kill me anyway.”

“True,” Rachel retorted, “but I would bet that our little Allie here would rather not watch you be in excruciating pain, thanks to her refusing to sign the contract.” She lowered the gun a little, but still had it pointed at Yolanda. “I can put one bullet through her kneecap first if you think I’m bluffing, Allida. The choice is yours.”

I held up my hands and shouted, “Okay. You win.” My heart was pounding, with T-Rex’s constant barking behind me only adding to the stress. Where the hell was AC? My office was much closer to this trailer than their building was, but we still should have arrived almost simultaneously. “I’ll sign the thing. I just need a pen.”

She tossed me one from her pocket. I knelt in front of the coffee table and feigned reading the words, though I was far too frightened to do so.

“Just sign it. Now. No stalling.” She cocked the trigger.

“Fine. I’ll sign it.” Hoping that she wouldn’t know the correct spelling of my name, I signed it “Alita Babcock.”

Rachel glanced at the signature. She smiled. “Thank you, Allie. Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No.” At least there was some consolation in knowing that, if I was about to die, it would be for the sake of a bogus contract that she’d never get past a judge.

Still desperately hoping that I could stall, I rose and said, “I wish you’d explain some things to me. Since you’ve obviously been a couple of steps ahead of me, all along, I mean. Such as where Mary Culberson is now and how—”

“My former little partner? She at least had the right idea . . . to hightail it out of here. I’ve got so much evidence on her if she ever comes back and tries to turn me in, she’ll be doing
twice
the time I am. Oh, and while we’re just shooting the breeze and all here, you can forget Animal Control arriving. Five minutes after I hung the phone up for Yolanda, who—” she gave an evil grin at Yolanda “—was tied up at the time, I called the Humane Society, claiming I was you. I assured them that the whole thing had been a false alarm.”

My stomach clenched. I glanced at Yolanda, who gave me a sad nod. “They’re not coming.”

Rachel laughed. “I knew you’d call them, even though you promised Yolanda you wouldn’t.”

Don’t panic.
They might send someone anyway, just to verify that everything was all right. Surely they would, in fact.

I looked again at Rachel, who wore such a smug smile that I wanted to gouge her eyes out. “You honestly think you’re going to get away with this? That nobody’s going to . . . to look out their window when they hear you firing off your gun and see you run away?”

“Which is why I never intended to shoot you in the first place. Like I said, Allie, you’re not half as smart as you think you are.” Her features mutated into a hateful glare, making her the ugliest person I’d ever seen. “I never wanted to kill anyone in the first place. Way too risky. But you left me no choice. If you’d’ve stayed out of it, I’d be
Ken’s
guardian by now, and everybody would be happy. But, no, you get all chummy with Ken. It was all I could do not to run you off the road the other night, but that wouldn’t have gotten this contract of mine signed. Then Ruby and Mary get greedy and think they can cut me out of my own plan. Meanwhile, your fat friend here keeps mouthing off about me.” She looked scornfully at Yolanda. “Jesus! I’ve worked way harder than Ken ever did to earn the money in the first place!”

“So both Ruby and Mary were your partners?” I asked, relieved to see that Rachel had relaxed her vigil a little and let her arms drop to her sides, the gun pointing down.

“Not partners, no. Ruby saw me kill Ken. She had a view of his bedroom window. And she couldn’t resist trying to blackmail me. Now, Mary was more my
pawn
than a—”

The doorbell rang. In the blink of an eye, Rachel had the gun trained on me, again. “Just a minute,” she called pleasantly, then grabbed the remote control with her free hand and turned up the already blaring television set beside Yolanda. More background noise, I realized, to drown out the cries for help. The sound of the doorbell had renewed T-Rex’s barking.

Under her breath, Rachel snarled, “Shit! Bet those damned people came out to check on the dog after all! It never fails. Nobody ever does a damned thing, till the one time you
want
’em to do nothing!”

While speaking, she grabbed a roll of duct tape from the floor, tore off a piece without relinquishing the pistol, and slapped the tape over poor Yolanda’s swollen and bloodied lips. She let out a muffled moan of pain.

Rachel said into her ear, “You make one sound, and I’ll shoot you and Allida dead before you can take another breath.”

She gestured at me to head toward the door. “You go ahead of me and tell them that everything’s fine. Just remember, I’ll still be holding a gun. And I’ve already killed two people, so I’ve got nothing to lose by putting you out of your misery, too.”

Rachel stepped toward the door but stayed back a couple of feet. She crossed her arms so that her pistol wasn’t in view, then gestured with her chin that I was to open the door. I pulled it fully open and two men in brown uniforms stood there. The first one, a young, tall man, smiled at me through the screen door. “Allida Babcock, right?”

“Yes.”

I grabbed the latch for the screen door, but Rachel coughed loudly, then said, “ ’Scuse me.” I let my arm drop to my side.

“Chad Bowman,” the young man went on. “I’ve seen you around at the Humane Society.”

“That’s right. I work with the dogs there, whenever I can spare the time.” I kept my voice flat and tried to indicate Rachel behind me with darting motions of my eyes.

“That’s cool. I hear you had some sort of false alarm with a dog here. Is that right?”

“Um—”

Rachel said, “That was my fault, I’m afraid. I’m Yolanda Clay, the dog’s owner.” She raised her voice at the end of the sentence as if asking a question, donning the attitude of a woefully contrite homeowner. “I’m the one who called Allie, here, to help me.” My skin crawled as she patted me on the shoulder. “See, my dog, T-Rex, and I were playing a game of tug-of-war, and I guess he took it a little too far. Grabbed my sleeve and wouldn’t let go. I guess I kind of panicked.” She chuckled, as if embarrassed by her foolishness. “He’s fine now, and so are we, as you can tell.”

The second man, standing a step below and behind Chad on the cinderblock stairs said, “We’ll still need to see the dog. Just to make sure everything’s fine.”

Thank God!
Rachel was in a bind now, and I could feel her stiffen. Though the men couldn’t see the
real
Yolanda from where they stood, she was in this front room with us, bound and gagged, just a few feet away from the doorway. There was no way Rachel could hide her without first shutting the door in the men’s faces and dragging her someplace.

“Bureaucratic red tape,” Chad said, grinning affably. It was more than that, though. Animal Control responded to distress calls much the same way as a domestic abuse case. Sometimes people with serious dog bites would cover up for their dogs, or would cover for their own retaliation.

“Fine. I’ve got him in a bedroom in the back, as you can hear,” Rachel said. “We’ll go get him and bring him out. But please, I . . . kind of had an embarrassing accident when I . . . got so scared about T-Rex. I’ve got some unmentionables hanging up to dry in here, so respect my privacy and wait outside. Please.”

“Oh. Sure thing, ma’am.” Both men stepped back, making it clear that they had no desire to trespass.

God damn it! My life was hanging in the balance, and they were scared off at the prospect of seeing some woman’s panties?

Rachel grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door in front of her. Though I was deliberately walking slowly in the hopes that Chad out there would find our conjoined-twin act suspicious, we rounded the corner into the hallway. A short distance away was the bedroom where T-Rex was keeping up his frightened, rhythmic bark.

This was going to be my only chance. Rachel and I both knew it. I craned my neck and gave a quick glance at Yolanda. Her eyes were wide open and she was fully alert. I could tell that she knew this would be her one chance, too.

“Not one false move,” Rachel whispered in my ear, poking me in the back with the barrel of the gun. “You get the dog out here, nice and quiet.”

My mind racing to calculate my best chance for survival, I stayed put. Rachel put one hand on my shoulder and pushed the point of the gun into the small of my back. “Like I said, I’ve got nothing to lose at this point.

You get those clowns to go away. In return, I’ll let the two of them and T-Rex live. Try to pull any tricks, and you’ll die knowing you could have saved the mutt’s life, along with that idiot Chad and his buddy.”

“I feel sick,” I mumbled. “Just let me . . . collect myself.”

“No time! Hurry!” she whispered harshly in my ear. I got a whiff of her reeking breath and nearly vomited for real.

“T-Rex,” she called gently. “That’s a good doggie.”

T-Rex stopped barking for a moment to listen. As I’d hoped, she removed her free hand from my shoulder as I opened the door. Though I hated to do this, knowing it would incite T-Rex further, in one sudden, sharp motion, I flung open the door so that it banged into him.

Predictably, T-Rex barged out the door past me. I pretended to reach for his collar and yelled, “Grab him!”

Rachel was distracted by T-Rex’s charge for the split second I needed. Momentarily out of balance, she dropped her vision to the dog, and away from me. I grabbed the arm holding the gun and pulled her toward me in the bedroom doorway.

Even though my action had caught her fully off guard, she was surprisingly strong. She started to pull her arm back and aim the gun toward my head.

Using every ounce of my energy, I hooked the bottom of the door with my foot and managed to pull it into us.