Silent Night: A Raine Stockton Dog Mystery (15 page)
Read Silent Night: A Raine Stockton Dog Mystery Online
Authors: Donna Ball
Maude said, “As a matter of fact, I’ve the chance to get away to a warmer climate this Christmas, too, and I think I’ll take it, by George.” She started rinsing the plates and placing them in the dishwasher. “You recall my sister’s boy who moved to Florida a few years back and opened that hotel? He’s getting married over the holidays and he’s bringing the whole family over for the occasion. It will be quite a treat for me—I haven’t seen some of them in forty years.”
Sonny congratulated her happily and shared her excitement, but I just stared. Maude
never
took vacations—not real ones, anyway. Dog shows, seminars and conferences hardly counted since I was usually with her, and we had spent every Christmas together since I was a child. I said, “But—this is awfully sudden, isn’t it? I mean, you didn’t say anything. And what about the dogs?”
“Well, I couldn’t make any plans until I knew whether or not we’d be open over the holidays, now could I? And of course I wouldn’t consider going if the hotel weren’t dog friendly. Which it is. ”
I quickly mustered a smile. “It sounds great. Lucky you.”
“Just so,” agreed Maude with a crisp and pleased nod of her head. “Now let’s see if we can raise a few funds, shall we? Spaying that Golden bitch of Lester Stokes is not going to be free, either—and that’s assuming he agrees to it.”
“I’ll go back out there in a few days,” I promised. “He wasn’t about to agree to anything today.”
I let the dogs in and got them settled in their places—Hero under Sonny’s chair, Cisco beside mine, and the two girls watching us hopefully from the braided rug by the door. There is an unwritten rule among dogs: no one willingly leaves the kitchen while people are sitting at the table. There was, after all, a plate of homemade butterscotch cookies in the center of it, and as every patient dog knows, accidents do happen.
Years ago we had started sending out Christmas cards to all our clients at Dog Daze Boarding and Training, whether they had been in once for a quick nail trim or taken a year’s worth of training lessons from us. We had built up quite a mailing list, and the solicitation letters for Golden Rescue we included in each card usually netted us a few hundred dollars each year. With the economy the way it was, I did not expect to net much above the cost of the mailing this year, but we had to keep trying. Besides, it was important to remind people that Dog Daze would be reopening soon.
I hoped.
Shortly after Thanksgiving, Maude, Sonny and I had gathered all our dogs, posed them in Santa hats, and spent the day photographing them until we finally got one in which all the dogs were looking more or less at the camera and their hats were on more or less straight. A few hours with Photoshop and we had a Christmas card no soft-hearted animal lover could resist. All we had to do was tuck the letter from Rescue inside each card and affix a mailing label and stamp. The work went fairly quickly, but I was glad to have to help. I munched cookies while I stuffed envelopes, and I casually mentioned my plans to go to the Sheriff’s Department Christmas party that night.
Maude seemed surprised. “Really? I didn’t think you’d go this year.”
I shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on it, but Buck made a point of inviting me. They’re doing something special for Uncle Roe.”
Sonny said, “I thought you said Miles is in town.”
“He is. Or was.” I couldn’t help frowning a little as I stuffed another plea for money into a Christmas card. “Not that it matters. Or would have mattered, even if he wasn’t mad at me.”
“Mad at you?” Sonny arched an eyebrow. “What could you possibly done to have made him mad? Aside from badgering him with environmental petitions and putting your name on every lawsuit that’s been filed against him in this county, of course.”
Since she was the attorney of record for all of those lawsuits and the environmental petitions, she hardly had room to talk, and she knew it. “Miles doesn’t care about that stuff. We agreed to disagree a long time ago.” And I shrugged, pretending a nonchalance I was very, very far from feeling. “But you’re probably right. He was interesting enough, but there was never any chance of it going anywhere. It was a disaster waiting to happen. ”
Maude and Sonny exchanged a look I didn’t like or understand.
“He always seemed a pleasant enough chap to me,” Maude said, making crisp, efficient folds in the stack of solicitation letters at her elbow before passing them to Sonny to be inserted into the cards. “And you did seem to enjoy his company.”
Despite her reserved British manner, Maude was not above fishing for information, and I suppose she was entitled. She had seen me through too many heartbreaks not to have something of an investment in my personal life.
“I barely know him,” I said. “We don’t have anything in common. And…” I frowned again. “He called my guys ‘dogs.’ Damn dogs, to be precise.”
“The villain,” observed Maude mildly. “He should be flogged.”
Sonny was trying not to smile. “Well, I can certainly see how that would put him on your
persona non gratis
list, but it doesn’t explain what you did to get on his.”
“It was a stupid misunderstanding. He didn’t think I was being responsible with Melanie. She wasn’t out of my sight for one minute, and most of the time we were with a police officer, for heaven’s sake. How much more responsible can you get? He just doesn’t understand how things work around here. He was completely unreasonable.”
They both were tactfully silent, and after a moment, a corner of my lips turned down in dry acknowledgement. “Okay,” I admitted. “So he had a point. But it doesn’t matter." I was trying hard to make myself believe that. "Like I said, it was fun hanging out with a rich guy, but it never would have gone anywhere. He’s not my type.”
Maude’s brows shot up into her steel-gray bangs. “Now, I simply can’t let that pass. My dear, you can’t be unaware that this new fellow of yours is exactly like the old one? Be that for good or ill I can’t say, but he is
definitely
your type.”
I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
Sonny shook her head, looking amused. “Think about it, Raine. Good-looking, powerful, charming, in a position of authority…”
“Mild-tempered, easygoing, well-liked,” added Maude.
Sonny finished, “Who are we describing?”
I still didn’t get it, and Sonny laughed softly. “Miles is just another version of Buck, only without the uniform. I can’t believe you didn’t realize that. I thought that was why you were attracted to him in the first place.”
I scowled fiercely. “I never said I was attracted to him. Besides, that’s ridiculous. They’re nothing alike.”
Sonny and Maude looked at each other again, but neither said a word. I slapped another stamp on an envelope. “Besides,” I said, “even if they were…”
I stopped, staring at the envelope on the table before me.
"Guess who lives on Burdock Road?” I said, and slowly raised my eyes to them in triumph. “Keith and Emmy Stokes—Nick’s brother! I think I know where Ashleigh is!”
__________
ELEVEN
T
here is nothing, and I mean
nothing
, as much fun as walking into a party looking hot and feeling like a hero. Well, okay, I’ve heard tell that a clean run in an agility trial is even better, but since I’ve never had one I can’t testify to that.
My red dress had a square neck that showed enough cleavage to make me feel just a little naughty—but not enough to scandalize my aunt—and a flirty skirt that flared well above the knee and made my legs look a mile long. My silver shoes had three-inch heels and big, red sequined buckles on the toes. My hair, which had grown out over the past few months, curled perfectly around my collarbone.
I spent a long time primping and preening in front of the mirror, because in my line of work there aren’t a lot of opportunities to look gorgeous. I appreciate them when they come.
The Sherriff’s Department’s annual Christmas Party was held in the Legion Hall, as were most holiday parties with more than ten guests that weren’t church-affiliated. The employees pitched in to have a ham dinner with all the fixings catered, and traditionally the sheriff supplied the beer and wine. I could see by the number of happy people with glasses in their hands that Buck had kept up the tradition.
There was a big, fragrant Christmas tree in one corner and a woodsy-smelling fire going in the fireplace. The buffet table was covered with a white cloth and scattered with colorful glass Christmas balls. Covered aluminum chafing trays added the aromas of butane and good food to the mix.
Mannheim Steamroller was on the stereo and the wood-floored building echoed with laughter. I left my coat in the foyer, fluffed up my hair, and felt like a million bucks when I walked in.
Of course I knew everyone there. A couple of the wives—who had naturally been on my side in the divorce—hugged me and told me how great it was to see me. Even Deke, apparently moved by the Christmas spirit and at least one beer, nodded pleasantly at me and commented, “Looking sharp, Ms.—uh…” He never had gotten used to not calling me by my married name. “Raine,” he finished awkwardly. In the spirit of the season, I smiled and thanked him.
My aunt, looking sharp herself in a beaded black sheath and smelling of Sand & Sable perfume, embraced me, and Uncle Roe kissed my cheek. “There she is, the girl of the hour,” he declared. “Why in the world you just don’t go ahead and join the force, I’ll never know.”
I laughed. “If things don’t pick up in the dog-training business, I just might have to do that.”
Across the room, Buck lifted his mug to me and smiled, and I felt a warm glow spread all the way out to my fingertips. He looked particularly handsome in a tan wool sweater and the suede sports coat I’d given him the last Christmas we were married. It was oddly pleasant to see him out of uniform, relaxed and happy and surrounded by his peers, drinking a beer. He glanced a question toward his mug, and I lifted my index finger. He turned to get me a beer.
“Honestly, Raine, I’d think you’d have enough to do this time of year without running all over the county helping these boys solve their cases,” said Aunt Mart. “Heaven knows I do.”
“Actually,” I said, “I wouldn’t have figured it out at all if it hadn’t been for the puppies. That’s how I ended up at Lester Stokes' place this afternoon, and that’s how I met Nick.”
“What puppies?” my aunt asked.
So I told her about the box of puppies that Nick had left by my mailbox, and how I had gone out there to talk to his father about retiring their breeding program at the same time Buck had been trying to question him about Ashleigh. “I knew he was trying to hide something,” I said, “I just couldn’t figure out what.”
“Of course he had a lot to hide,” Buck said, coming up beside me. “Petty theft, misdemeanor possession…”
I nodded and accepted the beer he had brought me. In honor of the holidays, beer was served in glass mugs instead of in the can, and it was amazing how much better it tasted that way.
“When he mentioned his brother,” I went on, “I remembered we had trained his Golden—from one of Lester’s litters, naturally—over the summer. Then when I saw his address on Burdock Road—about two blocks from the Dairy Queen—it just made sense that Nick would try to help his girlfriend out by letting her stay in his brother’s empty house while they were away.”
“And it all made a lot more sense,” Buck added, “when you remembered that when the wife brought the dog to training classes, she was driving a green Chevy. They left the keys to the Chevy with Nick's folks while they were on vacation.”
“The poor child,” Aunt Mart said. “She didn’t even know her daddy was dead.”
“Oh, she knew, all right.” Buck’s tone was a little grim. “It’s been all over the radio, and besides, Nick had to have told her. What we don’t know yet is why she continued to hide out there when she knew we were looking for her, and why she ran away in the first place.”
Buck had called me to let me know Ashleigh had been found at Keith Stokes’ house, and that they had brought her in for questioning. I hadn’t heard anything else, and I was anxious for the details.
“So what did she say?” I asked.
“Do you still think she was involved in her father's death?”
My aunt's eyes went wide and Buck shook his head. “Luckily for her, the medical examiner's report came back today, the wound was inflicted by a person about the same height as the victim. There's no way a five-foot-tall girl could have done it."
"So what was she doing in town Friday afternoon?" That was the one thing that had been puzzling me all day. "She had a safe hideout, and then she blew it by hitching a ride into town."
"Who knows? She wasn't making much sense when I left. She claimed she didn’t know anything about the bloody sheets in the tub, and the last time she saw her father was when he stormed out of the house drunk Wednesday night. There are rules about interrogating minors, and until she's officially declared a ward of the court she can't be assigned counsel.”
“You didn’t take that poor child to jail?” Aunt Mart sounded alarmed.
