Groomed For Murder: A Pet Boutique Mystery (12 page)

I wasn’t sure why he was that surprised. After all, it hadn’t been even six months since I’d accused him of murder, right here in this very office.

“Look, I don’t know what Daniel Colona was messing around in up here, but I sure as heck didn’t kill him. I had an alibi.”

“An alibi?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether he should share his alibi with us. This made me think that Handsy Hal had taken up with another woman. Pris would literally be thrilled.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “I was with Kevin Lahti.”

“Why on earth would you be hanging out with Kevin Lahti?”

“Let’s just say we were doin’ stuff. If you ask him, I’m sure Kevin will confirm that I was with him that night.”

Dolly and I exchanged a look. I, for one, planned to check out Hal’s alibi, but it was starting to look like our grand theory had just crumbled before our very eyes.

Twelve

W
hen Dolly and I arrived back at Trendy Tails, Packer, Jinx, and Daisy May were lined up staring at the front door just like they knew we would be walking through any minute. Rena stood next to them, holding her ferret, Val, up like a trophy.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” she said.

“Is it something bigger than Dolly here accusing Hal Olson of murder?”

Rena grinned. “You didn’t!”

Aunt Dolly drew herself up and looked down her nose. “I absolutely did. As it happens, he is not connected to the mob”—Rena’s smile slipped—“and he purports to have an alibi for the night of the murder.”

“So he didn’t do it?” Rena asked.

“At the moment, the signs point to no, but we have a few details to follow up on.”

“What’s your big news?” I asked Rena as I fetched treats for Packer, Jinx, and Daisy May.

“Well, it’s a long story.”

“Does it have to be?”

Rena stuck her tongue out at me. “Yes. It started just after you two left. Taffy Nielson stopped by and said she’d lost a gold necklace that had belonged to her mother and that it might have ended up here.”

“Here?” Dolly asked as she made her way to a chair. As perky as she was, Dolly wasn’t a spring chicken anymore.

Rena shrugged and draped Val around her neck. “Who knows? Taffy’s always been a bit daffy. Oh! Daffy Taffy. We should totally start calling her that.”

I rolled my eyes. “We should totally not call her that. She’s our friend, and I would like to keep it that way.”

“Well, whatever, she was looking for her necklace, and so I went to our ‘lost and found.’” She used air quotes as she said it. Our unofficial lost and found is a cranny between Jinx’s armoire and the wall where Val the ferret hides all her ill-gotten loot.

“And?” I started boxing up a few items that I needed to get to Prissy’s Pretty Pets so Pris could work her magic on our four-legged bride, Pearl.

“Turns out she was right. The necklace was there . . . though how that happened and why she thought to ask us is completely beyond me. Anyway, the big news is what else Val appears to have stolen.”

She paused dramatically. “I’ll bite,” Dolly said. “What else did you find?”

“One of Daniel’s pocket journals.” She squeed and did a little jig of pure excitement, sending Val hurtling down her shirt and into her sleeve, where it was safe.

Dolly and I gasped in unison. “Really?” I breathed.

“I kid you not.”

“Well, let’s have a look,” Dolly said.

We gathered around the folk art table, and Rena produced the journal: a trendy little leather-bound book, not much bigger than an index card, held closed by an orange elastic. As though it were a holy book—or a vial of the plague—Rena slid the elastic off and opened the journal.

“I can’t believe you waited for us,” I said.

“I thought it would be more fun if we read it together.”

It was so small, we had to take turns thumbing through the journal. Most of what he’d written appeared to be in some personal shorthand that would require a cryptographer to decipher. And we were all out of cryptographers at the moment.

There were, however, a few things we could make out. The first was near the front of the booklet. He’d written “DNR” and drawn what appeared to be a narrow-necked vase with two big olives in it. Later, about midway through the journal, he’d scratched the date “June 10” with three question marks following it. Finally, on the back cover, he’d written two names and phone numbers: Dee Dee Lahti and Ama Olmstead.

*   *   *

Prissy’s Pretty Pets Spa and Salon was Pris Olson’s pet project. Hal made a fortune selling RVs and other
camping equipment, so Pris certainly didn’t have to work, but I think she was bored just sitting around the house and directing other people to plant flowers in her yard. She owned and doted on a show-quality silver chinchilla Persian named Kiki, and I guess it just seemed natural to pamper other pets the way she pampered her own.

The pet spa boasted the whole array of bathing and grooming services along with animal massage, aromatherapy, and a posh kennel in which all the animals slept on velvet pillows and were fed fresh organic meats and produce. While our businesses didn’t precisely overlap, we were definitely competing for the pet lover’s dollars. What’s more, Pris’s inner mean girl wasn’t quite so “inner.” In her natural habitat, Pris had a nemesis, and since I’d opened Trendy Tails, that nemesis was me.

When I entered her store, a subtle chime sounded somewhere in the back of the building. I was juggling an expandable folder with all of my notes on the Tucker-Collins wedding, a plastic box with a sample of the doggy cake Rena was making, and the rhinestone tiara and veil that Pearl would wear on her special day.

Prissy’s Pretty Pets was not your average dog groomer’s. The waiting room looked like that of a high-end human salon. Gilt-legged purple wing chairs were scattered about the plush chocolate carpeting in intimate conversation groups, and down-filled dog beds were tucked beneath and beside about half the chairs. There was a whole wall of glass shelves filled with the finest pet grooming supplies—shampoos, serums, and
clippers—and another wall adorned with arty black-and-white posters of animals in motion. I was fairly sure the trotting Persian in one of the posters was Pris’s Kiki. Finished with soft lighting, new age music, and carefully chosen essential oils wafting through the air, the front part of the store was an oasis of comfort. When the curtain to the back of the spa parted, I could see that the soft lighting continued into the work space, though I knew there had to be more brightly lit rooms for precision hair and nail clippings.

Pris emerged from the back of the store like a phantom rising from the mist. I swear the woman’s feet never touched the ground. She glided above the floor like a Macy’s parade balloon, serene and effortless.

“Izzy,” Pris cooed, her lips sliding into the perfect cocktail party smile.

She did not dress like a woman who spent her days with animals—and their fur. That morning, she wore a turquoise shirtdress that made her blue eyes sparkle like the Caribbean, her blond hair pulled into a smooth, low pony, and a matching set of seashell-shaped gold earrings and pendant. All she was missing was the sun hat and the mai tai.

“Hey Pris. I brought Pearl’s headpiece for the wedding so you can attach it after she’s been groomed and clipped. And Rena thought you might want to try the cake.”

“The dog cake?” Pris asked as she took the tiny tiara and lace-trimmed veil from my hands. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Honest, it’s really quite tasty. Not very sweet, but
made with bananas and carob with a yogurt-based frosting. Better than those health bars they sell in the supermarket.”

“Hmm. I think I’ll just take your word for it.”

“Are we all set, then? You have everything you need for the big day?”

Pris turned the tiara this way and that, studying the struts that would attach to Pearl’s collar and the elastic that would slide under her chin. She nodded in approval before handing the veil back.

“I think so. I’ll groom both dogs in the morning, and then bring them to Trendy Tails along with my assistant Tammy. With your help, we’ll get both of them dressed in that kitchen of yours. The dress and veil should be a piece of cake, but the tux looks like it’s going to require a bit more wrangling.”

“Mercifully, I think Romeo is okay with clothes. Hetty Tucker has been haunting Trendy Tails for months now, and she always brings him in different outfits. He must be reasonably patient.”

Pris cocked her head. “This is a little bonkers, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “Maybe a little, but Hetty and Louise are over the moon about this event. And now that we’re combining the pupptials with Ingrid and Harvey’s nuptials, I think it’s going to be crazy fun.”

Pris opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, the door chime rang softly. I looked up to find Dee Dee Lahti standing on the threshold, looking around with wide eyes as though she weren’t quite sure how she’d come to be standing at the
entrance of Prissy’s Pretty Pets. She wore another muumuu, this one a dark teal with brilliant fuchsia hibiscus flowers all over it. Her lipstick matched the flowers and her hair was caught up in a dark teal scarf.

“Dee Dee,” Pris crooned. “Tammy is just finishing up Pumpkin’s blowout, and then she’ll pull her hair up into the topknot you like so much. She shouldn’t be more than another five minutes or so. I’ll go check on her now.”

Rena, Dolly, and I had had quite a conversation about which phone number we should pursue first, but since Dee Dee was standing right in front of me, it was like fate had made the determination for us.

“Hi, Dee Dee,” I said.

She grunted back.

“I’ve been meaning to stop by your place.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I wanted to ask you a little more about Daniel Colona.”

Dee Dee looked down at her feet, cloaked in white athletic socks and strappy silver sandals. “More? I told you, he just came out to the lake and stared.”

“Hmmm. That’s odd. We actually found one of Daniel’s notebooks, and he had your name and phone number written in the back.”

“Huh.”

“Did he call you?”

“No.”

“Any reason why he might want to call you?”

She shrugged.

I took a few steps in her direction, and she took one
back. I froze. She was acting like a skittish colt, and I was afraid she’d bolt.

“Dee Dee,” I soothed, “it’s okay. No one thinks you did anything wrong.”

That was the truth. I couldn’t imagine Dee Dee finding her way into Daniel’s apartment. Even if she did and she shot him, she seemed like the type who would just stand there until she was caught.

“It’s just that whatever Daniel was researching up here got him killed, and he seemed to spend a lot of time at the construction site. I know how important you are there. If you have any idea what Daniel was looking for out there, it would help us so much.”

Dee Dee shuffled her feet.

I decided to play the Dolly card.

“Do you know my aunt Dolly? Scrawny lady with platinum hair?”

That drew a smile from her. “Sure. She’s real nice. She brought me a tuna and Tater Tot hotdish when Kevin had that surgery for his sciatica.”

Where the rest of the country has casseroles, Minnesota has hotdishes. They come in a huge array of flavors, themes, and variations, from venison and potato to chicken and cheese puffs to tuna and noodles. Whenever there’s a birth, death, wedding, or illness, Minnesota women circle the wagons and bake comforting hotdishes. I happened to know that my aunt Dolly’s tuna hotdish was particularly tasty. I think it’s because she used buttery crackers instead of chips or saltines on the top, and she threw in a teaspoon of paprika.

“Right. That sounds like Dolly. Dee Dee, Dolly’s in a
lot of trouble right now. The police have already arrested her for Daniel’s murder, and if we don’t figure out who really did it, she might go to prison. No one gets hotdish in prison.”

She tucked her lips between her teeth, clearly weighing her options.

Having apparently reached a decision, she glanced around the store to make sure we were alone. “Okay, Mr. Colona called me a couple of times. But it didn’t have anything to do with the development on Badger Lake. He was trying to reach Kevin.”

“Kevin.”

“Yes, my husband. Kevin doesn’t have a phone like I do. He doesn’t like to be disturbed. So Daniel would call me and then I would hand the phone off to Kevin.”

“Could you get a sense of what they were talking about?”

Dee Dee looked aghast. “I would never eavesdrop.”

More’s the pity. In her shoes, I would be trying to catch every last word.

“Not even a little?” I nudged.

“Never on purpose,” she said.

“But maybe by accident?”

She paused a few moments before nodding. “Once I had to run into the living room to catch Mr. Jingles, my Chihuahua, and I heard Kevin say something about goggles.”

Goggles? “Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

Dee Dee sniffed. “I know what people think. That I have a screw or two loose. That maybe I’m a little slow. I’ll admit I might be a bit eccentric, but I’m neither
stupid nor deaf. He said ‘goggles.’” She paused and held up a quelling finger. “And before you ask, I have absolutely no idea what it means. I only heard the one word, and I freely recognize that it sounds nuts.”

Before I could push Dee Dee any further, Pris emerged from the back of the shop carrying a dinged-up dog carrier holding a lovely-looking Pumpkin.

“We gave her a spritz of that glitter spray, just to give her some extra sparkle,” Pris said. She waved her hand. “Completely on the house.”

When Dee Dee saw her companion, her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you for taking such good care of my Punky-kins. She looks like an angel.”

“Well, she’s always a joy to work with,” Pris said.

I didn’t think Pris did much of the actual “work” with any of the dogs, let alone Pumpkin, but that hardly mattered.

Dee Dee left the shop with an irrepressible smile on her face.

“I heard you two chatting away out here. Was she talking your ear off? She does that sometimes. I think she may be a tiny bit bipolar.”

“Actually, I was the one asking her the questions.”

Pris lifted one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Really. And what did you learn from Dee Dee Lahti?”

“That Merryville is way more mysterious than I thought.”