Groomed For Murder: A Pet Boutique Mystery (13 page)

Thirteen

“G
oggles?”

“Goggles.”

With the store closed for the evening, Rena, Sean, Dolly, and I were sitting around the cherry red folk art table in the middle of Trendy Tails tying new bundles of Jordan almonds for Ingrid and Harvey’s Wedding: The Sequel. I had to shoo Jinx away because she wouldn’t stop gnawing on the ribbon ends. She swished her tail in annoyance and walked over to the corner, stuck one leg straight up in the air, and began grooming. Clearly, I was dead to her.

“That’s weird,” Rena said.

“Maybe not,” Dolly said. She rocked forward in her seat from excitement, and that got Packer wound up. He immediately jumped from his dog bed and came prancing over to Dolly’s side, hopping back and forth beneath the table. “Construction workers wear goggles
to protect their eyes from splinters and bits of metal and such. Maybe Daniel wasn’t investigating the financing of the condo project. Maybe he was investigating workplace safety.”

Sean was struggling to tie the thin satin ribbon in a bow around the gathered tulle holding the almonds. I reached my hand out to take the packet from him, letting him and his man fingers off the hook.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “So that’s a possibility. Again, we have no idea what was drawing Daniel to the construction site. Safety violations may well have been the allure . . . though I can’t imagine why a reporter in Madison would come all the way to Merryville to report on occupational safety issues. Surely Madison has plenty of examples of much more egregious violations.”

“Besides,” I added, “if Daniel was interested in the workers wearing safety goggles, why would he call Kevin Lahti? Other than the fact that Dee Dee works on the site, Kevin has nothing to do with anything.”

Rena giggled. “Kevin Lahti wouldn’t know a safety measure if it bit him on the—”

“Rena!”

“Oh, come on, Dolly. You’ve said worse. Heck, I’ve heard you say worse in church.”

Dolly harrumphed. “That may well be, but I’ve earned my right to cuss. You’re a young lady. You can keep it clean. Besides, you’re a professional now.”

Rena laughed again, this time with her head tipped back in abandon. “I bake snacks for pets. I’m not sure that qualifies me as a professional. And this”—she
waved her hand down her body to point out the Green Day T-shirt she wore over a man’s thermal shirt, her military-issue pants, and her Docs—“this does not exactly scream ‘professional.’”

Sean chimed in. “Speaking of baking pet snacks, have you two heard anything more from Richard Greene about the pet food regulations?”

“What’s this?” Dolly asked.

“Oh, Richard’s trying to shut us down again, this time because we didn’t register our pet food products with the Minnesota Department of Agriculture.”

“That man,” Dolly huffed. “I should go give him a piece of my mind.”

“You going to dress like a hooker again?”

A few months back, Dolly had tried to intervene between me and Richard, and her efforts to employ her feminine wiles were a little over the top.

“Smart aleck. I looked good in that vest.”

That sequined vest. That she wore over nothing but her birthday suit.

“But no,” she continued. “I think Richard responds best to plain speaking, so I’m just going to reason with him.”

Secretly, I guessed that Dolly was leaping at an excuse to spend time with Richard. They were an unlikely couple, but I caught sight of sparks when they were together.

“That would be great, Aunt Dolly,” I said. “I’ve been on the phone with the Department of Agriculture, and no one there seems to know whether we really need to register our products and, if so, how we’re supposed to
do that when our inventory changes so often. It’s going to take a team of bureaucrats to figure out their own rules, and I can’t do much of anything until they do.”

Rena yawned loudly.

“Hint taken,” I said. “It’s getting late. We can finish these tomorrow in between customers.”

Rena had walked to the store that morning, so Dolly offered her a ride home. After the two of them left, Sean lingered to help me put away the scraps of our crafting project.

“Izzy,” he said, “Dolly’s in trouble. I appreciate all your efforts to connect Daniel’s murder to the development at Soaring Eagles, but . . .”

I plopped into a chair and covered my eyes with my hands. “I know,” I moaned. “It feels like we’re swimming in circles. What was he doing out there?”

“We may never know.”

I spread my hands flat on the table. “Maybe not, but I’m not giving up yet. If Daniel was calling Kevin Lahti, then Kevin Lahti must know something. And whatever that is, I’m going to find out.”

Sean sat next to me and covered one of my hands with one of his. His fingertips curled around my palm ever so slightly. It felt heartbreakingly close to holding hands.

“No,” he insisted. “Absolutely not. Dee Dee is harmless, but Kevin’s a genuine bad guy. You are not confronting that man.”

“Not alone,” I countered. “Rena will come with me.”

He sucked in a big breath and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Jeez, Izzy. I’d bet Rena could take you in a fight, but that’s not saying much.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, it’s true. You’ve got heart, but it’s all soft and gooey. You’d be terrible in a fight. Rena’s got that edge, but she’s a terrier: fierce, but too small to do much damage. The two of you are no match for Kevin Lahti.”

“You know what? I’m getting a little tired of men telling me what I can and cannot do. Between you and Jack, you’d think I didn’t have the sense God gave little bunny rabbits. But I’m a grown woman, and I can do as I wish.”

“Jack? Well, I may not be his biggest fan, but if he’s telling you to drop this investigation, then I’m with him one hundred percent.”

“Men,” I huffed.

“Izzy,” he countered.

He was staring at me from under his dark brows, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re flirting.”

He tilted his head and considered me for a moment. “What if I am?”

I’d broken his heart in high school and had done nothing to mend fences until a few months earlier. At first, he was wary of me, as though I still had some power to hurt him, but it eventually became clear that he’d gotten over me well and good. My tentative gestures of affection had been soundly rejected.

We were more comfortable with each other now. At least when Rena was around. And it seemed like Rena
was always around. It was like we’d made an implicit agreement to avoid private time together.

“You’re not,” I said. I couldn’t hide the hint of pain in my voice as I spoke the truth we both knew.

He slowly withdrew his hand from mine. “I suppose I’m not.”

Did I detect a note of sorrow? Or was it only a reflection of my own hurt?

I cleared my throat, breaking the tension between us, and returned to the more urgent issue: Dolly’s predicament.

“Look, one way or another I’m going to talk to Kevin Lahti. If you’re so worried about my safety, you could do the chivalrous thing and come with me.”

“Heck, I’m not sure I would be much protection against a river rat like Kevin, but I guess I don’t have any choice.”

“You have a choice. You could let Rena and me go on our own.”

“That’s not really a choice at all.”

*   *   *

I felt very country come to town when I met Ama Olmstead at her office door, the entry to a mother-in-law apartment on the side of the Olmstead residence. I looked fine in my good jeans and a kelly green twinset, but Ama looked incredible. The lean spare lines of her body were cloaked in a snow-white suit and dashing red silk scarf at her neck. The early-morning light picked out the myriad shades of blond in her perfectly coiffed hair.

Ama Olmstead’s office suited her perfectly. Clean
lines of Danish modern furniture, soft white walls, and occasional pops of vibrant color in the artwork and pillows and desk accessories. A handful of plaques and certificates hung on the wall: Ama’s diploma from Loyola of Chicago, a certificate for completing a workshop called “Shot Heard Round the World,” an award for a story she’d written on Merryville’s football team the year they went to the state finals in their division, and a commendation from the mayor for service to the community. Artistic black-and-white photos of Jordan, likely taken by his own mother, filled in the blank spaces, making the wall a monument to Ama’s many accomplishments.

I’d promised Sean that I would meet with Ama to get her take on Kevin Lahti before we went knocking on his door. After all, the two were related, and Ama had her ear to the ground as a writer for the
Merryville Gazette
. What’s more, Ama’s number had been in the back of that journal, too. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her about Daniel’s calls.

She directed me to sit down on one of the curved, blond wood chairs in front of her glass-topped desk.

“I take it this is a Jordan-free zone,” I teased.

She laughed. “You’d be surprised how good I am at hiding crayon drawings and spit-up. But you’re right—this is my grown-up space, decorated long before Jordan came along. And I only wear this suit on days that Steve is getting Jordan ready for day care.”

“Like you said, having a kid changes everything.”

“What can I do for you today, Izzy?” she asked, her voice as crisp as an August apple.

“I was wondering if you’d be willing do a longer feature on the double wedding we’re having at Trendy Tails this weekend.”

“
Double
wedding?”

“Yeah. As you know, we had already planned a doggy wedding between Louise Collins’s and Hetty Tucker’s dogs. And since their wedding was cut short, Ingrid and Harvey have agreed to get in on the fun and tie the knot along with our four-legged couple.”

Ama looked puzzled at first, but then she laughed.

“I wouldn’t miss that for the world. And I’ll give you this, Izzy McHale, you are all in on this pet boutique.”

I pulled a face. “I don’t have much choice at this point. Every dollar I have is wrapped up in the boutique and I owe Dolly and Ingrid a pretty penny. I mean, business has been pretty good, and we’re running in the black, but that doesn’t happen by magic. I have to hustle if I want to keep on bringing in cash and keep up with my bills.”

Ama waved her hand. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make fun. Steve’s the same way. The money he earns from last week’s roofing job is spent buying edging rock for next week’s landscape business. It all comes out in the wash eventually, but it feels like he’s always one step behind. That’s why this opportunity to build The Woods at Badger Lake was such a big deal to him, and why he’s still a little bitter about not getting the contract.”

Ama began tapping her finger on the desk, her manicured nails making little clicking sounds.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Fine,” she replied. “Just having a nicotine fit. Would you mind if we stepped outside so I can have a smoke?”

“No problem.”

We both headed out her office door and then around the side of the house. Ama peeked at the driveway, which was empty, before pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from an inside pocket of her purse.

She lit the cigarette and gave it a long pull, then slowly let the smoke seep from her nostrils. A look of profound relief washed over her face.

“Sorry. Steve was home almost all day yesterday, so I haven’t had a chance to get a smoke since yesterday morning. If I light up in the office, he smells it in the house, and he’d kill me if he knew I was still smoking.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we both quit when I was pregnant with Jordan, and Steve was all gung ho to stick with it after the baby was born. Keep his environment clean and all that, make sure we both live long healthy lives. But I don’t have many vices, and this is one I just cannot give up.”

“Steve’s quite the convert, huh?”

“Yep,” she said after taking another heavy drag. “Won’t even let his crew smoke on outside jobs. A couple of times, he’s even asked people in public places to put out their cigarettes because of Jordan. It’s a little extreme.”

She took one last drag, then snuffed out the cigarette on the bottom of her shoe, dropped the butt in a plastic Baggie she’d pulled from her purse, and sealed it up tight so the odor was contained. Finally, she pulled out
a little canister of breath spray and gave herself a couple of healthy squirts.

“Anyway,” she said after she finished her postcigarette ritual, “I’d love to do a full-length feature on the double wedding, hopefully for the Sunday paper. I’ll run it by my editor Ted, but I can’t imagine he’d be opposed.”

“Thanks so much, Ama.”

Frankly the request for extra coverage of the weekend’s nuptials had been a thin cover story for my real reasons for bothering Ama.

“I don’t mean to beat a dead horse, but did Daniel Colona contact you after he got to town?”

Ama’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously, Izzy? How many ways can I tell you that I didn’t know Daniel Colona and he didn’t know me?”

“It’s just that he had your phone number in the back of his journal.”

“Maybe he got my number from someone, called the paper or something. But he didn’t use it. I. Never. Met. Him.”

I offered a timid smile of apology. “I get it. I’m sorry. I’m just so anxious about my aunt Dolly.”

Ama sighed. “It’s okay. Family is important. I’d do anything to protect my family. I understand that you must feel the same way.”

“Listen, I had another question, if you don’t mind.”

She stiffened, but she didn’t say no.

“I was wondering what you know about Kevin Lah- ti. If maybe you’ve learned anything about him in your time as a reporter.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

“Joyce Lambert is the one you should ask. She covers the police beat, and from what I know of Kevin, his whole life is just a series of criminal acts.”

I decided to dip my hook in the water to see what I might catch. “I’d heard”—from Rena’s rambling speculations—“that Kevin might be involved somehow with the development out by the lake.”

“Kevin? I can’t imagine that. Hal Olson may be a shady character, but no one in their right mind would trust Kevin Lahti with any kind of job at all. He’s horrible to Dee Dee. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dee Dee and I are not exactly sisterly, but no one should be treated the way Kevin treats Dee Dee. And he lies every time he opens his mouth. He used to borrow money from Steve all the time, coming up with emergency after emergency, until I finally put my foot down and said ‘no more.’”