Seed No Evil (23 page)

As the bartender placed cold mugs of beer in front of us, Marco took out his wallet. He put a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and slid it forward. “We've got a photo we want you to look at.”

“Sure,” he said, pocketing the money.

I held out my cell phone with Emma's photo pulled up. The bartender studied it, and then a smile of recognition lit his face. “I remember her. A real babe.”

“Do you remember anything else about her?” Marco asked. “Was she looking for someone? In a bad mood or good mood? Chatty or silent?”

“She wasn't silent but not what I'd call chatty either. She said she really needed a strong drink, so I was ready to pour her a shot, but then she asked for a margarita. I thought that was kind of funny.”

“You sure it's this woman?” Marco asked.

“Yeah, I'm sure. Pretty, big bright eyes, long, wavy hair, nice figure. We don't get many like her coming in here except in the summer, during tourist season. Rest of the year, it's these dummies.” He gestured to the patrons on the stools.

The guy beside me looked up and said, “Hey!”

“Sorry, man,” the bartender said. “I'm just telling it like it is.”

“Did this woman give you her name?” I asked.

“Nope, and I didn't ask. All she said about herself was that she'd had a helluva day at work and it was only Monday. After that, we made small talk, you know, the weather, what the Cubs and Sox are doing, stuff like that.”

“Anything else you remember about her?” Marco asked.

“Just that she downed that second margarita real fast after she saw what time it was. Said she had to get to a meeting. Then she took off.”

“Sounds like Emma,” I said to Marco.

“I'm satisfied,” he said. He finished his beer and set the mug on the counter. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks, man,” Marco said to the bartender as we got up.

Everything Emma had told us checked out, so I mentally crossed her off the suspect list.

•   •   •

Marco pulled into the public parking lot where I'd left the 'Vette and leaned over to give me a kiss. “It'll be a late night for me, so I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

I opened the car door to get out, then hesitated. I was so tempted to say,
Are you telling me the truth about working with Rafe tonight?
But considering our earlier conversation on open communication and trust, I couldn't do it. I either trusted Marco or I didn't.

“Good luck with Rafe.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your folks.”

I slid into the car and locked the door, then pulled out my phone and called my parents. “Hi, Mom. Hey, is it okay if I drop by for a while?”

“Abigail, is everything all right? Are you in trouble?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“No, you're not. I can tell by your voice that you're worried, plus you never call here in the evening unless it's bad news. Do you have bad news for me? Did you hear something from Sean Reilly about my interview? Are they going to make me go back for more questioning?”

My mom was starting to hyperventilate, so I said, “Mom, it's not that. We haven't heard anything at all. What I wanted to talk to you about is Seedy.”

“Seedy!”

“Yes. I just took Jillian and Claymore to meet her to see if they would take her, but they won't. And Jordan is being stubborn. I don't hold out much hope there.”

“You can cross him off altogether. He said absolutely not.”

“Did you talk to him today?”

“I talked to Kathy. She said you were lucky you were able to convince him to take the puppy, so we shouldn't press our luck.”

“What about you and Dad? Would you consider taking her?”

“Honey, we have Taz.”

“But Taz is an outside animal and not one you can really play with. You need an inside pet, something to keep Dad company while you're at school. You had a dog once upon a time, right? Then I came along and ruined it.”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“From Jordan. He said you got rid of the dog when I was born because having both of us around was too much work.”

Mom laughed. “I'll have to make sure I set him straight on that. We got rid of the dog because we discovered your dad is allergic to dogs. So, no, we won't be able to take Seedy. Have
you
considered adopting her?”

“I can't, especially now.”

“You're right. You've got too many changes coming up. It isn't easy to move from one home to another, and on top of it, to get used to living with someone new. Adding a dog to the mix would be quite a challenge.”

“Exactly. In the meantime, I need to find Seedy a home in case your protest doesn't work.”

Mom sighed. “I hate to be pessimistic, but it doesn't look good for our side, Abigail. One of my fellow protesters talked to a board member today, who told her they were not enthused about making the policy change, but that tough economic times were forcing them to. They aren't getting in the big donations they once were, so measures have to be taken in order to keep the shelter up and running.”

“
Measures
meaning euthanizing the unwanted animals?”

“That's how they're looking at it, honey. We'll put up a good fight, but ultimately it'll boil down to money. So try your best to find Seedy a home, Abigail.”

I hung up with my mom and sat in the car thinking. Who else could I approach about taking an ugly little lovable mutt? Lottie? Grace?

It was worth a try.

Tuesday

“P
ositively not.”

“No way.”

“But you don't understand,” I said to Grace and Lottie. “This dog will be euthanized if the shelter's policy is changed, and that could happen in a week. If you'd just come meet her, I'll bet one of you would change your mind.”

“Positively not,” Grace maintained.

“No way,” Lottie said. “My quads have one year of high school left before they're off to college, and then
finally
Herman and I can start traveling. We've been waiting seventeen years for that day, and I'm not gonna be tied down by a mutt, no matter how lovable she is. I know I sound heartless, sweetie, but you got to remember, we've had our share of pets over the years. We've been pet free for the past three, and I'm not gonna take on another animal now. Someone will adopt your little Seedy.”

“Grace?”

“I shan't bore you with a long explanation,” Grace said. “Leave it that at this time in my life I'm not ready to be tied down either. Perhaps in a few years, but not now. Besides, I'm a cat person. So when the day comes, it'll be a cat, or two perhaps. But most definitely feline.”

I plodded back to my desk in the workroom, took a look at the spindle, then laid my head on my arms. Only five orders—and no home for Seedy. It was days before my wedding and I was sick with worry instead of excitedly awaiting my wedding day.

Okay, Abby, take stock. Who else do you know?

Nikki was out of the question. Jordan was out. My parents were out, as were Lottie and Grace. What about Jonathan and Portia?

I grabbed the phone and dialed my older brother's office. “Hey, this is Abby Knight. By any chance is my brother available?”

Jonathan was a heart surgeon who spent hours in surgery, while his wife, Portia, spent her days shopping, golfing, and gossiping at the country club. They'd never had children. Surely she was lonely.

“He's seeing patients?” I said to his receptionist. “Would you have him call me as soon as possible? Thanks.”

Catching Jon in the office was a stroke of luck, so I took that as a good sign. The only problem was that Portia was the most spoiled woman I'd ever met. She'd grown up in the lap of luxury, and Jonathan saw to it that she stayed there. Would they be a good match for an ugly little dog?

At that point, I didn't care. If I could get them to agree to house Seedy even temporarily while I continued the hunt, I'd be happy.

The phone rang, and I heard Lottie answer it up front. In a moment, she stuck her head through the curtains. “Marco's on the line.”

“Hey, Daisy Belle,” he said when I picked up the phone, “how's it going? Are those flyers working?”

“Not so much. I've got five measly orders waiting for me.”

“Glass half full, remember?”

“How's this? I've got five orders waiting
and
the morning is young. How was your session with Rafe last night?”

“Fine. Listen, I just got a call from Reilly. He said that Justin lawyered up at his interview yesterday and is refusing to cooperate with detectives. Let's go put some pressure on him at lunch today.”

“Sure.”

“You sound down, babe. Is it because of the orders?”

“That and I'm worried about Seedy.”

“Abby.”

“I know what you're going to say. I've got a lot on my plate. I just can't stop thinking about that little dog.”

“Well, think about this instead. My brother Rico is coming into town on Thursday for the wedding and my mom is throwing a big Italian feast. So find something nice to wear and get ready to be dazzled by another Salvare male.”

Lottie peered through the curtain again and whispered, “Abby, Jonathan is on the phone.”

I gave her the thumbs-up sign. “Okay, Marco, I'll prepare to be dazzled by your brother, and meanwhile,
my
brother is on the other line, so I'll see you at noon.”

I punched the second button. “Hey, Jon, how are you?”

“I have twenty patients to see before two p.m., so I'm just a
little
rushed. What do you need?” Sarcasm ran rampant in our family.

“Love you, too, bro.”

“Seriously, Abs, what do you need? I'm in a hurry.”

“A favor.”

“Okay,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Who needs my expert opinion?”

“No one. This is about a little dog that needs a h—”

“I have patients whose lives are hanging in the balance, and you're asking me about heart surgery on a dog?”

“Jonathan, calm down. It's not surgery this dog needs. It's a home.”

“A home!”

“Yes, a home. Don't you think Portia would love a little dog to dote on?”

“Sorry, Abby. A dog would never work. Portia can't stand loose hair in the house. It freaks her out.”

“Dogs have fur.”

“Fur—hair. Same difference. Nice talking to you. Gotta run.”

Click.

I sat with my chin propped on my hand, staring at the spindle, my mind hard at work. Who else, who else, who else?

Marco's sister?

•   •   •

Tobacco Man was back at the counter, chewing his wad and watching TV, when we entered Shaw's Towing. He nodded in greeting, then went through the doorway to get Justin.

“Sorry, man,” he said upon returning. “Boss is tied up right now.”

“Tell him we'll wait,” Marco said.

Tobacco Man shrugged, then disappeared through the doorway. He came back shaking his head. “Boss says he doesn't have time to see you today. Come back tomorrow.”

“That won't work for us,” Marco said. “Tell him we're prepared to wait all day.”

I glanced at Marco in surprise. There was no way I could afford to be gone all afternoon.

As soon as Justin's assistant left the room, Marco said, “Don't worry. He won't make us wait long. Watch and learn, Sunshine.”

Tobacco Man returned. “Boss said suit yourself.” He indicated the folding chairs along the front window. “You can grab a seat if you like.”

Marco gestured for me to sit down, but he stood by the window.

Ten minutes went by during which time I checked for messages and then played FreeCell on my phone. Marco continued to stare out the window.

After another ten boring minutes, I tapped Marco's arm and whispered, “Are you sure we should wait?”

He gave me a look that seemed to say,
Have a little faith.

Two seconds later, the phone at the counter beeped. Tobacco Man picked up the receiver and held it to his ear, then looked over at us and said, “Yep.” Then he hung up. I had the feeling it was Justin checking up on us.

Five minutes later, Marco nudged my shoulder and said, “Let's go.”

He was out the door first and starting toward the sliding gates in the cyclone fence, with me trotting behind. As the gates slid back, a tow truck came roaring out, spewing gravel, tearing across the lot to the street.

“It's Justin,” Marco called, jogging toward his Prius. “Let's go.”

We jumped in the car and followed him across town, up to the main highway, through a shopping center's parking lots, and back to town again, finally catching him when both vehicles got stopped by a train.

Marco threw the Prius into park, then hopped out and ran to the driver's side of the tow truck. He came back a few minutes later and reported that Justin was still refusing to talk. “I told him I was prepared to stake out his house and follow him wherever he went,” Marco said, “but all he said was, if I wanted to waste my gas and my time, go ahead.”

“What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do—make life miserable for him until he agrees to talk.”

So how did you spend the week before your wedding, Abby?

Well, other than making someone's life miserable . . .

“Maybe I'll have better luck when I meet with Tara and Kyle today,” I said.

•   •   •

At four o'clock, I rang the doorbell at Jordan's house and waited. I knew neither Jordan nor Kathy would be home from work, so I wasn't surprised when Tara answered the door.

“Hey, Aunt Abby! What are you doing here?” She winked as she let me in. “I was just working on math homework with my friend Kyle.”

Kyle was seated at the long cherry dining room table, now littered with school paper, laptop computers, and books. He looked a lot like his mother, except that his hair was a darker blond and very curly. He was rail thin and pale to the point of looking sickly, with eyes that seemed both weary and watery. I'd seen that look before on people with severe allergies.

“Kyle, this is Abby Knight, my aunt,” Tara said.

Kyle muttered, “Hi,” turning red in the face. He seemed unwilling to meet my gaze. I guessed it was due to embarrassment.

“Want something to drink?” Tara asked.

“No, thanks.” I pulled out a chair across from Kyle as Tara took the seat next to him. “Nice to meet you at last,” I said. “I've heard a lot about you.”

He glanced at me with a wary, somewhat hostile expression, but said nothing, so I added, “I heard how you rescued Seedy. That was really kind of you. Not everyone will go out of their way to help an animal.”

As though it pained him to say it, he uttered a quick, “Thanks,” and turned his attention to his computer.

“I've been trying to find a home for Seedy,” I said.

Hearing that, Kyle looked at Tara with obvious alarm. “I thought you said you were going to take her.”

“My dad said no,” Tara said sadly.

“We can't separate her from Seedling!” he said. “You promised, Tara.”

“I'm trying to find Seedy a home with someone Tara knows,” I told him, “so the dogs can visit back and forth.”

“Kyle, that's the best we can do,” Tara said, putting her hand on his arm as though to calm him. “I'm still taking the puppy. I was lucky to get my dad to agree to that.”

He gazed at Tara with big, worried eyes but said nothing. The conversation wasn't off to a very good start. And now, somehow, I had to lead him to the subject of last Monday afternoon.

“I understand you've rescued a number of dogs,” I said.

He shrugged, avoiding my gaze.

“Too bad about your allergies,” I said. “I'm sure you'd like to keep some of the animals you've rescued.”

Still no response. Tara looked at me and rolled her eyes. I didn't know what else to do except jump right into it.

“It's lucky that you're here, Kyle,” I said. “I was going to come see you at your house this evening.”

His head jerked up as though I'd sent a shock through his body. “What for?”

“I'm hoping you'll help me prove your mom's innocence.”

“There's nothing to prove. Besides, I don't know anything.”

“You know a few things, I'll bet.”

He folded his arms across his chest in more of a protective rather than stubborn way. “Like what?”

“Like whether your mom called you after work on Monday to tell you her plans for the evening.”

“She didn't have to call me. I already knew about the meeting. She had it on the calendar in the kitchen.”

“Does she write everything on the calendar?”

“Yeah,” he said guardedly, dropping his gaze.

“Did she write down that she was going to the mall?”

“No, she told me that morning. She said it was an important meeting and she wanted to look nice for it.”

“Sounds like you and your mom are very close.”

Slowly, he looked up at me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I guess.”

“Did your mom ever talk to you about the possible change in the shelter's no-kill policy?”

He shifted in his chair. “Yeah.”

“As kindhearted as you are,” I said, “that must have been very upsetting to hear.”

He shrugged, his mouth set in a frown. “Doesn't matter anymore.”

“Why not?”

“They won't change it now.”

“Because?” I asked.

“Because it was
Bev's
idea, and she's gone,” Kyle said, fairly spitting out his aunt's name. “
She
was the one who wanted it changed, not my mom, like you want to believe.”

“How do you know what I want to believe?” I asked.

“Mom told me how you questioned her,” he said, his eyes cold and accusing.

“Your mom told me she was for the change, Kyle,” I said.

“You are so totally wrong. She just had to say that while Bev was around, but now she's going to see that it doesn't get changed. She promised me she'd take action as soon as the time was right.”

“What kind of action?”

He picked at a corner of his notebook. “She didn't go into it.”