Groomed For Murder: A Pet Boutique Mystery (17 page)

“Listen,” he added. “You have to leave Hal Olson alone. I know you think he doesn’t have an alibi, but I assure you he does.”

“But he didn’t meet Kevin until an hour and a half after the murder,” I insisted.

“For crying out loud. Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I mean I really should not be telling you this—”

“Right, ongoing investigation and all.”

“Exactly. But if it will get you off Hal’s back, it’s worth bending the rules a little. Hal told us his real alibi: he was pulled over for speeding in Round Earth County.”

I frowned. “Well, why didn’t he just say so?”

“First, let me remind you it was none of your business. Second . . .” He took a deep breath, weighing whether to go on. “Second, he got caught with a joint.”

Good heavens, Hal had quite a night planned for himself last Friday. Pot and hookers. Definitely the sort of guy Merryville needed at the helm.

“They hauled him into the police station and he spent a solid hour talking them out of booking him,” Jack continued. “Man could sell corn to Iowa. Bottom line, there’s no official record of the drugs, and it would kill his political career if anyone found out. I only know because I’ve got a buddy in Round Earth. And now you know . . . but you won’t say a word.”

“Of course not. I would never betray your confidence like that. Thank you for trusting me.”

For an instant, the mood between us grew fraught yet still. We were in the eye of the hurricane and could smell the ozone of the storm about to wash over us.

Jack scuffed one shoe across the pavement, then looked me straight in the eye. “Izzy, would you go to dinner with me?”

“Dinner.” I uttered the word as a statement, because I knew exactly what he said, but I needed to hear the syllables again.

“Yes, dinner.” He flashed me that cocky smile. “Or dancing. I’d like to watch you dance.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” I muttered. “It’s a horrible sight.”

“Well, then, let’s start with dinner.”

“Jack, are you asking me on a date?”

He laughed. “I’m sure trying to. Must be doing something wrong, though, because you haven’t said yes.”

I’d never gone on a real date with anyone other than my ex-fiancé, Casey. We’d been a couple since my sophomore year in high school, and when he left me, I hadn’t really been in a dating sort of mood. Now, confronted with a yes or no question, I felt paralyzed by fear. But then I heard a voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Aunt Dolly:
You only get one ride in life. Make the most of it.

“Jack Collins, I will have dinner with you.”

He laughed again. “You make it sound like a momentous decision. It’s just a date, not a blood oath.”

I felt heat licking up my cheeks. “I know it’s just a date. But I’ve never been on a date with anyone but Casey.”

Jack sobered instantly. “Really?” I nodded. “Well, then, Izzy McHale, I am honored. And I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven, if that’s okay with you.”

I cleared my throat and tried to get a grip. “Seven it is.”

And then he did the most wondrous thing. He leaned forward, rested a hand on my shoulder, and kissed me. Just on the cheek, and only for an instant, but he kissed me. When he pulled back, my hand flew to my face, as though I needed to be sure it was still there.

I looked up to find him smiling like he’d just scored a winning touchdown. Then he spun on his heel and headed down the street whistling a tuneless ditty as he went.

Seventeen

T
hursday morning, I crawled out of bed feeling like I’d been hit by a train. I’d only had two glasses of red wine at dinner the night before, but I rarely drank and I was feeling the aftereffects.

I managed to get Trendy Tails unlocked and Rena set up to start the workday, but then I hobbled down the street to the Happy Leaf for one of Taffy’s herbal remedies. And maybe a scone.

“Wow. You look like you had way too much fun last night,” Taffy teased.

“Two glasses. Just two glasses of wine, I swear.”

“Uh-huh.”

I collapsed at one of the chintz-covered tables.

“You have a hangover cure, right? I mean you have a tea for every occasion.”

“I absolutely do. Peppermint and ginger for your tummy and a little fennel for your liver. Between a pot
of that blend and a few more glasses of water, you should be feeling fine in no time.”

“Bless you,” I muttered as I rested my head on the table.

I heard Taffy puttering around, the domestic sounds as comforting as her earth mother presence. I heard Taffy squeal before I heard the skittering of tiny feet across one of the shelves behind the counter.

I sprang to my feet—a little too quickly, making my head spin—ran over to the counter, and scanned the shelf of apothecary jars filled with tea leaves and dried herbs. My eyes danced right over him, and then back.

There he was. Gandhi the rogue guinea pig. He sat between two jars, looking me square in the eyes. He definitely was a cute fella, a beautiful fringe of his auburn hair ringing his shiny black eyes. As a pet, he was adorable. However, as an unwelcome visitor, first in Richard Greene’s shop and now in Taffy’s, he was a royal pain.

“Can you get him?” Taffy whispered to me.

I shrugged, a small movement so I wouldn’t scare him away.

Slowly, step by painstaking step, I made my way behind the counter and toward his spot on the shelf. He kept his eyes on me the whole time, casually chewing on some tidbit he’d found.

Now I was close enough that I barely moved an inch at a time. Slowly I lifted my hands to grab him. I swear I could feel his gentle breath against my fingers. I closed my hands together . . . and held nothing but air. In the time it took me to clutch his little body, he’d
disappeared back behind the jars. I could hear him running, but the sound grew softer as he made his way through some hidey-hole and out of my reach.

“Oh, Taffy. I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged, resigned. “It’s okay. Maybe we can lay down one of those humane traps?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” I made my way back to the table I’d been occupying and gingerly sank into the seat, trying not to wobble or fall before I got myself situated.

After just a few more minutes passed, Taffy brought over a steaming pot of tea that smelled a bit like Christmas and a plate with two plain cream scones. She poured my first cup.

“Drink up,” she urged.

“So what kind of shenanigans got you into this state?” she asked after I’d downed the cup of tea in a single slug.

“Dolly and Rena and I went out for a couple of post-sleuthing bottles of wine. I wasn’t kidding. I only had two glasses, but they were generous glasses, and I’m a lightweight.”

Taffy poured me another cup of her elixir.

“Did you all have fun?”

I allowed a little smile to slide across my face. “I did, indeed.”

I took another swig of Taffy’s tea. Between the ginger, peppermint, and fennel, it had a real bite. Not delicious, but not horrible, either, and it was already working its magic. I could feel my head clearing a little more with every sip.

“Thank you again. You’re saving my life here. I’ve got a long day ahead of me, and I need to shake off last night ASAP.”

“What do you have going on?”

“Hmmm. Well, I have to sit down with Ingrid and Harvey and figure out how to weave their wedding into Romeo and Pearl’s ceremony; I have to finish making the bow tie pet favors and the Jordan almond bundles for Ingrid and Harvey; I have to figure out what I’m going to wear on Saturday and do a load of laundry so I have some clean undies; and then, uh”—I ducked my head to take a sip of my tea—“tonight I have a date.”

“You have a what?” Taffy asked, leaning forward in her chair.

“A date,” I repeated, shrugging sheepishly.

“Oh my. Who with? I want to know everything.”

“There’s not much to tell. Jack Collins asked me out for dinner last night. It’s definitely a date, but it’s just the first one.”

“You have to have a first date before you can have a second and a third and then fall in love and get married and have babies,” Taffy said.

“Whoa. One step at a time. Just a date.”

“But with Jack Collins. He’s a good-looking man.”

He really was, I thought. Casey had been tall and slender and bookish, similar in build to Sean but with blond hair instead of sable. Jack was totally different. He was tall and broad shouldered, with powerful arms and a military straightness to his stance. He looked like he could have stepped out of a G.I. Joe comic. But he
had these gorgeous blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Oh, yes, indeed, he was a good-looking man.

“I’ve got news, too,” Taffy said, blushing softly.

“Oh really,” I said with a smile. “Spill it.”

“I’m going on a date tonight, too.”

“With Ken?”

“Yes. A real date this time. Not just hanging out.”

Interesting.

“What changed?”

“I’m not sure. He said he’s not worried about the investor anymore. In fact, his exact words were that it was ‘safe’ to take me out on the town.”

It all sounded very sketchy to me, but Taffy looked ready to float away on a cloud of happiness.

“You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

She beamed. “I’m completely smitten.” Her smile faded just a bit. “I know you’re not exactly Ken’s number one fan, but I hope you can be happy for me. Since I’ve moved to Merryville, I haven’t had much luck on the dating scene. You know, everyone’s dating someone they went to kindergarten with. Ken’s been so good to me. Says I’m the center of his galaxy. He’s such a romantic, I can’t resist him.”

I reached across the table and captured one of Taffy’s hands in my own. “Of course I’m happy for you. I don’t need to love Ken. You do. That’s all that matters.”

She gave my hand a squeeze.

“Here’s hoping our luck has finally turned a corner.”

*   *   *

I returned from the Happy Leaf feeling a million times better, both physically and emotionally, and because I
was feeling generous, I brought back baked goods for Rena, Ingrid, and Harvey.

We all gorged ourselves on apple turnovers, scones, and cream cheese Danish, while we talked about how the ceremony would unfold on Saturday.

“For the most part, everything will run like it did last Friday—”

“Minus the body,” Ingrid said.

“Yes, minus the body. We also have to make a few accommodations for the animals. First, Ingrid, I think you should come down the back stairs and through the kitchen. You’ll be walking to the altar holding Pearl’s leash. She’s not a rambunctious dog, but I don’t want her tripping you coming down the stairs in your heels.”

Ingrid laughed. “Good idea. I can barely get myself down those stairs in heels, let alone with a beagle toddling along at my side.”

“Harvey, you’ll be standing at the altar waiting for Ingrid. Romeo will be at your side. Don’t worry. He’s a pretty chill dog, so I don’t think he’ll make a run for it.”

Harvey looked mildly alarmed at the notion of the dog pulling him along on a mad dash out the door, but he simply nodded. What a good sport.

“We’ve had to make some compromises with the music. Hetty and Louise are set on ‘Puppy Love,’ so Pris and I were thinking that would make a good song for you and Pearl to come in on. But if you’re really tied to Pachelbel’s Canon, we can work something out.”

Ingrid waved off my concern. “He’s no Johnny Mathis, but I love Paul Anka as much as the next woman.”

“Great! Then we’ll finish up the ceremony with the two of you dancing to Johnny Mathis’s ‘Wonderful, Wonderful.’”

Ingrid grinned, and Harvey reached over to catch hold of her hand. “It sounds perfect,” Ingrid said.

“Any questions?”

“None. It sounds like the perfect day.”

I started collecting the plates and napkins from our morning feast.

“What are you two up to today?” Rena asked. Ingrid had spent the week touring poor Harvey around Merryville so they could relive the memories of their high school romance. Harvey looked like he’d rather just spend some time sipping beers at the VFW, but he indulged Ingrid.

“Today, we’re going down to the bluffs where the Perry River splits off from the Mighty Mississippi. You know there are caverns down there. Bootleggers used to use them to hide their hooch back in Prohibition days. When we were in school, the kids would go down there to neck. Isn’t that right, Harvey?” she asked, giving him a gentle shove on the shoulder.

Harvey flushed bright red, but he nodded.

Rena laughed. “Kids used those caverns for more than necking when we were in school. Isn’t that right, Izzy?”

I shared a commiserating look with Harvey and nodded.

Ingrid and Rena both busted up until tears of mirth were running down their faces. I had a sneaking suspicion they were laughing at Harvey and me.

Ingrid stood, pausing for a moment to get her sea legs. “Are you ready to go, Harvey? I want to see if we can still see the place where you carved our initials into the rock.”

Rena clasped a hand to her heart. We were in agreement that Harvey and Ingrid were the cutest couple in the whole wide world.

When they left, Rena helped me finish up both the dog and human wedding favors. My hands were cramping from all the close work of tying little bows and stitching tiny stitches.

“Are you excited for your date tonight?” Rena asked.

“Yes, I suppose so. More anxious than excited.”

“Why anxious? Jack’s a nice guy.”

“I’m sure he is. But this whole murder investigation thing is going to sit in the booth with us. We don’t precisely see eye to eye on that score. Plus, this will be my first post-Casey date. And since there never was a pre-Casey date . . .”

Rena stopped what she was doing. “Wow. I guess I hadn’t thought about that before. Well, it’s time you got back in the ring, and I think Jack’s a great partner to do it with. He’s generally easy to talk to, laid-back, a gentleman. You don’t have to worry about him judging you.”

“Oh, no. He’s
already
judged me.”

“And then he asked you on a date. You must have passed muster with him somehow.”

I finished the last stitch on the last black bow tie and tossed it into a box. Next step was to label the boxes with the names of all the four-legged RSVPs so
everyone got the right size. I wandered over to the counter to retrieve the guest list.

“I’m not the only one with a big date tonight,” I said.

“Oh? Who else?”

“Taffy,” I said as I sat back down at the table.

“With Ken?” Rena made a face. Rena was sort of an all-or-nothing kind of person. If she didn’t like you, she really didn’t like you. And she really didn’t like Ken.

“Yes. But we have to be supportive of Taffy. She’s really taken with him. Says he’s a romantic, told her she was the center of his galaxy.”

Rena froze. “Wait. What?”

“I know. It’s kind of cheesy, but it made Taffy go all gooey.”

“No, I mean that phrase is ringing a bell.” Rena tapped her front teeth with her fingernail. Then her face lit up. “I’ve got it! That story that Daniel wrote about the personal chef who slept with all those women. He reported that that was his pickup line.”

It took me a minute to catch on, to remember the article I’d read online and tell Sean and Rena. But then it did, and pieces started falling into place.

Before Rena and I could get down to brass tacks, the doorbell jingled and Sean stepped into the store.

“Hi, girls. Just got done talking to the DA. I don’t suppose Dolly is here, is she?”

“No. She went shopping with my mom at the mall in Brainerd.”

“Too bad. I really need to go over her options with her.” Sean wandered over to the table, absently picked up one of the doggy bow ties, and twirled it on his finger.

Rena was practically jumping out of her skin. “Options shmoptions. The best option is for us to clear her name, and we may have done it.”

“Good Lord. What has Hal Olson done this time?”

“Not Hal,” I said. “Ken West.”

Sean pulled back in surprise, then sank into one of the multicolored chairs that surrounded the folk art table. The blue one. He always chose the blue one.

“Walk me through it,” he said.

We explained about Taffy and the phrase Ken had used that pegged him as the Madison “Mystery Chef.”

“But surely Daniel didn’t come all the way out here for a full month because of Ken West.”

I waved my hand. “No, based on everything we’ve learned so far, I think it’s a safe bet that Daniel came here for the story about the owls. But Ken might have been afraid of being identified. Can you imagine what that kind of reputation would do to his business? In a big city, it might make him seem glamorous or intriguing. But in Merryville, it would make him plain old slutty.”

“Especially for someone who isn’t a native son,” Rena added. “Folks around here will forgive our neighbors for a lot, but Ken’s an outsider.”

“Still, how was Daniel going to recognize him when no one in Madison would identify him?”

“Who knows?” I said. “Maybe one of the women did tell him the name? Maybe he learned enough about the chef’s reputation to recognize Ken’s food? Put that together with a Madison chef who moves to the middle of nowhere for no obvious reason, and a good reporter might dig deeper.”

Rena jumped in. “Ken had access to the upstairs that no one else at the party had. He could have gotten up there and killed Daniel and slipped right back into the kitchen. No one would have known a thing.”

“And he’s been seeing Taffy Nielson for a few weeks, but he wouldn’t take her out for real until this week. I thought he was just trying to keep their relationship a secret. But what if he was trying to keep a low profile more generally? Trying to hide out from Daniel.”